Dragon Age: The Champion of Kirkwall
by Optimus524
Summary: Garrett Hawke was just a normal man running from the darkspawn and trying to protect his family. Now he finds himself in the middle of a war that can change the very shape of the world and finds that he must take a side or the entire world will fall to chaos.
1. Prologue

The dwarf was in the Hanged Man, at the table next to the fireplace, playing Wicked Grace when he was being dragged to an estate by two guards and they want exactly being gentle.

As he was being dragged he noticed a woman with short black hair wearing black armour, he saw the symbol that was engraved on it which was that of an eye in the middle of a sun. This could only mean she was a Seeker of Truth, which was bad for him.

He noticed the woman was looking for a book in hand and recognised it. It was the book he published, the _Tale of the Champion_ , and he did not find this didn't surprise, in fact he had been expecting this for quite a while.

The two guards then threw Varric into a chair and the woman approached him.

"I've had gentler invitations," he said, holding his head.

"I am Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker of the Chantry," said the woman gestured, and the guards left the room.

Varric watched as they left and then turned his eyes upon the Seeker. "And just… what are you seeking?"

"The Champion."

"Which one?" he asked looking at his fingers.

The Seeker then slammed the book into his face and drew a dagger.

"You know exactly why I'm here!" she roared as she pointed the dagger at Varric's throat. "Time to start talking, dwarf. They tell me you're good at it." She withdrew the dagger, and stabbed it through the book on the dwarf's lap.

Varric picked up the book, and looked at it. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Start at the beginning."

The dwarf shrugged, and started to tell a story. However, his story wasn't exactly terribly accurate.

* * *

The Champion, Garrett Hawke, a powerful mage blasted a hurlock with a bolt of lightning. He then slowly advanced past them shooting lightning bolts and fireballs at any of the darkspawn that got close to him.

His brother, Carver Hawke, a Grey Warden, stood by his side, holding a greatsword in both hands bent down at the darkspawn they had slain.

"Scouts," he said. He then looked up at his brother. "We have to fight them sooner or later."

"Then we make our stand here," said Hawke turning his eyes upon the darkspawn horde that was advancing towards them. "Prepare yourself."

The darkspawn seemed unending and no matter how many they blasted or sliced more and more came. However there was a brief pause when the annihilated the first wave and the two brothers looked at one another.

"We can't keep this up forever," said Carver.

Hawk looked at his brother and then to the darkspawn horde towards them. "We'll make it through this—together."

Then they heard the darkspawn approach and Carver looked to his brother.

"Here they come. Should I give them a taster my blade?"

"All yours, brother."

Carver then charged that the advancing darkspawn and sliced them to pieces. Hawke helped his brother by sending a storm of fireballs at the darkspawn annihilating them.

Suddenly they heard the footsteps of something large charging towards them. Hawke turned and his eyes fell upon a large ogre in armour.

Hawke gave a silent look to Carver, telling him that he would handle this. He then walked slowly towards it and started blasting it with lightning bolts. Then his hands began to glow and two large hands appeared out of the two separate rifts and grabbed the ogre, tearing it apart.

However, they soon found themselves surrounded by an army of the blighted creatures.

"There's no end to them," said Carver as he and his brother stood shoulder to shoulder.

They prepared to fight to the death, but they heard of war and turned to discover a dragon flying down towards them and spewing fire everywhere.

* * *

The Seeker glared at him. "Bullshit. That's not what really happened!"

"Does that not match the story you've heard, Seeker?" Varric asked as he crossed his legs.

"I'm not interested in stories. I came to hear the truth."

Varric shrugged. "What makes you think I know the truth?"

The Seeker then slammed her hands on the table and glared at him. "Don't lie to me! You knew him even before he became the Champion!"

Varric held up his hands as the Seeker advanced on him. "Even if I did, I don't know where he is now."

The Seeker turned her back on him. "Do you have any idea what's at stake here?"

Varric smirked. "Let me guess: your precious Chantry's fallen to pieces and put the entire world on the brink of war?" He gestured. "And you need the one person who could help you put it back together."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "The Champion was at the heart of it when it all began. If you can't point me to him, tell me everything you know."

Varric raised an eyebrow. "You aren't worried I'll just make it up as I go?"

"Not at all."

Varric leaned back, folding his hands. His manner was more confident now, he was always more at ease when he had a story to tell, especially with a captive audience. "Well, then. You'll need to hear the whole story."


	2. The Destruction of Lothering

" _The Blight had been unleashed on Ferelden. Darkspawn poured out of the Wilds, clashing with the army at the ruins of Ostagar. The battle was a disaster. King Cailan died on the field with his men, betrayed by his most trusted general. Unopposed, the horde marched on the village of Lothering. The village burned, and many innocents were slaughtered. The Champion's family barely escaped in time…_ "

* * *

Leandra stumbled, tripped, and fell to the ground, panting. All three of her children immediately turned around to defend her. Part of her wished they'd just keep running. They'd stand a better chance without her slowing them down.

Bethany created a wall of fire and Garrett knocked a hurlock aside with his staff. A second hurlock jumped out of the fire, but Carver slammed his sword right on top of it splitting it in half.

Garrett was her eldest child, he looks so much like his father with his black hair and blue eyes. He didn't have a beard, but he had a black stubble. Ever since their father's passing, he had taken up the matter as head of the family and did what he could to protect them.

Her other children were Bethany and Carver, both twins. Bethany, like her brother and father, was a mage with long black hair was beautiful. Carver was a soldier and he did resented his older brother for take up the mantle as head of the family and never kept it quiet.

"I think that's all of them," said Carver sheathed his sword and offered her a hand up.

"For the moment," said Bethany.

Leandra looked down. She could just make out the remains of Lothering in the distance. "Maker save us, we've lost it all. Everything your father and I built…"

"I know how much Lothering meant to you, but we have to move," said Garrett gently, as he place a hand on a shoulder.

"Yes. You're right," she swallowed, and tried to force the panic back down.

"We should have run sooner!" Bethany shook her head. "Why did we wait so long?"

Carver immediately got defensive. "Why are you looking at me? I've been running since Ostagar!"

Garrett shook his head. "Listen, you two," he said turning his head back down the path they came. "The darkspawn could be on us any minute."

"Please! Listen to your brother," Leandra begged

Carver jerked his head. "Then let's go. Lead on."

* * *

They had not made it far when Bethany stumbled to a halt. "Wait! Where are we going?"

Carver put a supportive hand on her shoulder. "Away from the darkspawn. Where else?"

Tears welled in Bethany's eyes. "And then where? We can't just wander aimlessly!"

Garrett reached forward and placed a hand on both his brother and sister. "Wherever we go, what's important is that we don't separate."

Wandering aimlessly wouldn't keep her children safe. They needed a destination. Walls to keep the darkspawn at bay. As much as she hated to admit it, she saw only one choice. "We can go to Kirkwall," she said.

"What? Why would we go there?" said Garrett stunned.

"There's a lot of Templars in Kirkwall, Mother…" said Bethany fearfully.

"I know that, but we still have family there—and an estate." They didn't have to stay long. And with a Blight, surely the templars had larger concerns. Her children knew how to stay out of sight.

Bethany sighed. "Then we need to get to Gwaren and take ship."

Carver started down the path again. "If we survive that long. I'll just be happy to get out of here."

* * *

They had to fight their way through more darkspawn and when they turn round the corner they saw, to their surprise, a templar. He wasn't alone either, there was a redhead woman fighting at his side.

Ordinarily, Hawke would have left them alone, but then a darkspawn struck the templar on the back and toppled over, dropping his shield. The redhead woman then slammed into the hurlock that had struck him and punched it in the face.

"You will not have him!" she yelled before reaching for her sword and cutting of the hurlock's head. She then picked up the templar shield and helped the man to his feet. "They will not have you."

Hawke could see the darkspawn surrounding them and while the woman was clearly skilled with the sword, even she could not hold them off more than a minute.

He called up fire, and directed it into the midst of the darkspawn. Beside him, Bethany twirled her staff, and joined him in hurling spells. Carver gave both of them an irritated look before drawing his blade and moving in. Between them and the woman, it was over quickly.

The woman helped the templar to his feet. "Stop squirming, Wesley. You'll make it worse.

The templar Wesley, unsurprisingly, narrowed his eyes as they approached. "Apostate, keep your distance."

"Well, the Maker has a sense of humour," said Bethany rolled her eyes. "Darkspawn, and now a Templar. I thought they all abandoned Lothering."

"The darkspawn are clear in their intent, but a mage is always unknown. The Order dictates…"

The woman tried to call him back. "Wesley."

"The Order dictates…" Wesley took a step towards Bethany. Hawke stepped between them, eyes narrowed. Even if the man wasn't wounded, he and the woman wouldn't stand much of a chance against the two of them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carver's hand on the hilt of the greatsword.

Clearly the woman could see this as well. "Dear, they saved us. The Maker understands."

Wesley sighed, and then stepped back. "Of course."

"I am Aveline Vallen. This is my husband, Sir Wesley. We can hate each other when we're safe from the horde."

Hawke gave her a nod. "For a while it looked like we were the only ones to escape the darkspawn."

"We aren't free of them yet," Carver sighed. "You didn't see Ostagar. This is just the start."

"You were there?" said Aveline, gave him a surprised look. "Yes, I see it now. Third company, under Captain Varel."

"Then you saw how the whole of the army was defeated."

"We fell to betrayal, not the darkspawn. This arm of the horde will not have the same advantage."

Hawke turned his gaze back to the templar. "How bad is that wound?"

Wesley looked at his sword arm. "I think my sword arm's loss, even with healing."

"Then you will have mine. As always," said Aveline firmly. She then turned our eyes on them. "For now, we move with you. North is cut off. We barely escaped the main body of the horde."

Carver shook his head in frustration. "Then… we're trapped. The Wilds are to the south! That's no way out!"

"We have no choice. The darkspawn have us fenced in. We go south," said Hawke starting to walk.

* * *

Wesley agreed to stay by Leandra and assist her, fortunately Carver still had his crossbow and gave it to him. Using the crossbow he was able to shoot a few of the darkspawn. It took Aveline and Hawke only a few moments to get a pattern going. He would spray out ice, slowing or stopping the darkspawn, and she would come in with her blade, taking them down before they had a chance to recover. Carver's longer blade kept the darkspawn from closing, and Bethany focused her magic on the darkspawn using ranged weapons.

For a brief moment, it looked like they might actually make it.

There was a thumping sound, and the ground beneath them actually shook. Aveline glanced down, and started to raise her shield as the ogre wearing armour charged up the hill. Carver and Wesley threw themselves out of the way as the beast charged, narrowly escaping being trampled.

The massive beast whirled on Leandra. Bethany placed herself between her and the beast.

"Maker, give me strength!" she said and blasted it with fire, causing the beast to step back.

Then it snarled and grabbed her, slamming her into the ground before tossing her aside.

"Bethany!" Leandra cried running to her daughter.

Hawke hit the ogre in the face with a fireball, and it turned towards him and Aveline, lowering its head as it charged.

Hawke signalled, and Aveline caught it. She set herself, shouting to focus the creature on her. As she did, he sprayed ice low on its legs. It stumbled, and slid. Aveline brought her sword down, slicing into its head. It still managed to rise, knocking her backward. Hawke sent a second blast of ice into its eyes. It thrashed blindly, as Carver came, slicing open the back of its legs with his greatsword. Hawke then created the biggest fireball he could and smashed it right into the face of the ogre, melting its helmet and then it toppled over.

He turned, readying a healing spell as he went to his sister. Wesley was standing over Leandra as she knelt next to Bethany. One look told Hawke it was already too late.

"Bethany, wake up! The battle's over! We're fine!" his mother begged.

"I'm sorry, Mistress. Your daughter is gone," said Wesley.

"No!" Leandra cradled her daughter. "These things will not take Bethany."

Hawke knelt next to her, staring at his baby sister's face. Were it not for the blood staining her cloths, he would have sworn she was merely sleeping. His father would have known what to say. "Bethany risked her life to save us." They were less than a day from Lothering, and already the best of them had fallen.

Leandra looked up at him. "I don't want a hero! I want my daughter!" She shook her head at him, and glared through tear filled eyes. "How could you let her charge off like that? Oh, my poor little girl. My sweetheart."

Carver's voice shook slightly. "If we stand here weeping, the darkspawn will take the rest of us, too."

The templar laid a hand on Leandra's shoulder. "Allow me to comment your daughter's soul to the Maker, Mistress." He waited for Leandra's slight nod before intoning the prayer. "Ashes we were, and ashes we become. Maker, give this young woman a place at your side. Let us take comfort in the peace she has found in eternity."

The words seemed to give Leandra some small comfort. "I will never forget you, Bethany." She laid Bethany down, and managed to get to her feet.

For the first time in his life, he was grateful to a templar. "At least Father will have company, now," he said. He exchanged a look with Carver. Their tears would have to wait.

They'd barely stood up when Aveline drew her sword again. "Flames! We're too late."

Carver took up a defensive position next to him. "There's no end to them…"

Hawke could not see no way of them to survive this, but then, behind them, they heard a roar.

They turned and saw the cliff behind them a massive dragon, it gave a whole new meaning out of the frying pan into the fire. Apparently the darkspawn agreed, because they were running away from the dragon has it flew over their heads.

They ducked just in time as the dragon breed fire hitting the darkspawn and burning them to cinders. It then grabbed a hurlock and took off into the air and released it causing it to fall to its death.

The dragon then came back around and landed with a massive _thud_. It then began to take out the remainder of the darkspawn, but one thought was coming into Hawke's mind. What was it going to do after it dealt with the darkspawn?

When it looked them, he naturally assumed the dragon was going to attack them next, but then it did something that surprised them all. It began to transform into a woman with eyes gold cat-like, silver grey hair and wearing fur around her neck but looked as if it belonged to a fox.

Clearly the woman had to be a mage, his father had never mentioned any sort of magic like this during their training wondered who she was. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wesley stumble. Aveline set him down gently next to where Leandra had collapsed.

"Well, well, what have we here?" said the woman, dropped a dead hurlock in a hands, as she walked towards them. "It used to be we never got visitors to the Wilds, but now it seems they arrive in hordes!"

He decided the wisest move was to be polite, he didn't fancy the idea of facing so powerful. "I don't know what we would have done if you hadn't arrived."

"I do! You would have perished. You still may," she smiled. The way she talked told him it was wise to be polite to her. "If you wish to flee the darkspawn, you should know you are heading in the wrong direction."

That was no good, if what the woman said was true, then they were trapped. She started to walk away. Carver stepped forward. "So you're just going to leave us here?"

She stopped. "And why not?" Slowly she turned back to face them. "I spotted a most curious sight; a might ogre, vanquished! Who could perform such a feat?" She looked at Hawke. "But now my curiosity is sated, and you are safe… for the moment. Is that not enough?"

He wasn't sure who this woman was or what she was, but he was sure she was testing them. "We won't be able to get through the darkspawn on our own."

She smiled in a way that gave him sent a shiver down his spine. "They are everywhere or soon will be. Where do you plan to run off to, hmm?"

Carver spoke up. "We're going to Kirkwall—in the Free Marches."

Something about the answer pleased her. That made him nervous. She raised an eyebrow. "Kirkwall? My, but that is quite the voyage you plan. So far… simply to flee the darkspawn."

"And better suggestions?" Hawke asked raising an eyebrow. "I hear the Deep Roads are vacant now."

She laughed again. "Oh, you I like." She focused her odd golden eyes on him. "Hurtled into the chaos, you fight… and the world will shake before you." She turned away, tilting her head as if talking to something they couldn't see. "Is it fate or chance? I can never decide." A moment later, she turned back towards them. "It appears fortune smiles on us both today. I may be able to help you yet."

Hawke knew it wasn't gonna be that easy. "There must be a catch."

"There is always a catch. Life is a catch! I suggest you catch it while you can!"

"Should we even trust her?" Carver asked. "We don't even know what she is!"

It was Aveline who answered. "I know what she is. The Witch of the Wilds."

"Some call me that. Also Flemeth. Asha'bellanar. An 'old hag who talks too much'." She shrugged. "Does it matter? I offer you this: I will get your group past the horde in exchange for a simple delivery to a place not far out of your way. Would you do this for a 'Witch of the Wilds?'"

Hawke could see very little options and glanced at the others. "Should we trust her?"

Carver just looked uncertain. Aveline sighed. "Wesley is injured. We'll never escape the darkspawn."

Wesley coughed. "If you need to, leave me behind."

"No," Aveline said firmly. "I said I would drag you out if I had to, and I meant it!"

"What is a Witch of the Wilds, exactly?" Hawke asked.

"A Chasind legend," Aveline replied. "Witches that steal children."

Flemeth scoffed. "Bah! As if I had nothing better to do."

"Then you're an apostate."

She smiled. "Yes, we have so much in common."

He decided it was best to find out exactly what he was getting himself into. "How much trouble will this delivery be, exactly?"

Mischief danced in her eyes. "About as much trouble as my saving your lives five minutes ago."

Hawke crossed his arms. "That's a lot to ask without telling us what this involves."

"It's nothing more dangerous than one so capable can handle."

As badly as they needed her right now… he couldn't shake the feeling that she needed them even more. Still, he saw no other choice. "We don't have much choice."

"We never do. There is a clan of Dalish elves near the city of Kirkwall." She offered him a carved wooden amulet. "Deliver this amulet to their Keeper, Marethari. Do as she asks with it and any debt between us is paid in full." She sighed. "Before I take you anywhere, however, there is another matter…" She turned her gaze towards Wesley.

The veins under the man's skin were starting to show black. He sighed, and walked next to Flemeth as she went to where he was laying. Wesley's eyes met his. The man knew.

Aveline rose. "No! Leave him alone."

Flemeth's voice was sympathetic. "What has been done to your man is within his blood already."

"You lie!"

Wesley reached up, and took her hand. "She's right, Aveline. I can feel the corruption inside me."

Hawke looked at Flemeth. "There must be something we can do."

"The only cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden," Flemeth said.

Aveline's face was bleak. "And they all died at Ostagar."

"Not all, but the last are now beyond your reach."

Some hope, then. Just not enough. Wesley pulled Aveline towards him. "Aveline. Listen to me."

"You can't ask me this. I won't."

"Please. The corruption is a slow death. I can't…"

Hawke and down to her and gave her sympathetic look. "He's your husband, Aveline. I can't decide his fate."

Her husband then touched her arm, and she met his eyes. Hawke knew the man was already dead, the question is would be a painless and quick death or slow and painful one. He may not have known the man for very long, but he did deserve a swift end. Aveline slowly nodded her head as tears rolled down her cheek.

Wesley caressed her cheek. "Be strong, my love."

He then pulled out his dagger and she place both hands on it, over his, and positioned it over his chest. Then in one clean thrust, the blade sank into the man's chest.

She dropped the blade as she rose. He watched her for a moment, then bent, picking up the dead man. Carver immediately came to help, and they carried the body back to where Bethany was lying. There was no time for a pyre. He aimed his staff at some rocks, and called up a blast of fire. The slide buried both still forms. The darkspawn, at least, would not have them.

"Without an end, there can be no peace," Flemeth said. "It gets no easier. Your struggles have only just begun."

* * *

Cassandra stood there giving Varric a questionable look.

"Flemeth."

"I thought that might interest you," said Varric with a hint of satisfaction.

"You expect me to believe a myth swooped out of the Wilds to save the Champion?"

"Oh, come now, Seeker. Do I need to recite the _Tale of the Wardens_ as well?"

Cassandra glanced back at the door. There stood a woman with short red hair, Varric hadn't noticed, which wasn't in surprise. Her name was Leliana, who had been at the Wardens' side during the Fifth Blight. She remembered how she told her that Theron and other Wardens had simply woken up in Flemeth's hut, with no idea how she'd gotten them from the tower. She regretted that the answer to the puzzle had come too late for the man. "No. Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised to hear of her involvement." She just wished she knew what that involvement was going to mean.

"I liked my version better, too."

"What else aren't you telling me, then? Did she send someone with the Champion?"

She'd sent her daughter with the Wardens. A daughter who had vanished mysteriously immediately after the death of the archdemon. And the only other who might have had any idea about their plans had vanished only a couple of years later. Could Flemeth perhaps be behind the disappearances of both he and the Champion?

"In a manner of speaking."

"So it's true. Continue. But if you tell me they all flew to Kirkwall on a dragon…"

"Nothing so fanciful, I assure you," Varric assured as he sat back again.


	3. Kirkwall

" _The witch kept her word and got them to Gwaren, where they took ship. They sailed north across the Waken Sea, lashed by terrible storms. Two weeks they spent in the dark hold, packed in with the fearful and the desperate._

" _And then they saw it; Kirkwall, the City of Chains. Long ago, it was part of the Imperium, slaves coming from far and wide to work the quarries. Now it's a free city. But I use the term loosely._

" _Sail through those black cliff and you'll see what the slaves of old saw; the Gallows, welcoming you. That's where their ship landed with all the rest._ "

* * *

Their mother had said few words since getting on the ship. He and Carver took turns getting her to eat. After he'd broken the jaw of the first man who'd tried to take her meal from her, the others had left them alone.

Carver had lapsed into sullen silence. Hawke touched Aveline's shoulder. "I could do with fresh air."

She nodded, and followed him onto the deck. "There," she said. "You can just make out the cliffs."

He shielded his eyes from the sun, then nodded. As they got closer, he shook his head.

He knew they had just passed the cliffs where there were two statues on either side with their hands covering their faces as if they were weeping. They were statues of all slaves from the Imperium back when it controls the continent.

Ahead of them was the Gallows, which was also the Circle of Magi. However, unlike the Circle Tower in Ferelden, it looked more like a prison then a place of learning. The walls were high making it impossible for anyone to climb over them and in the centre was a large tower that overlooks the entire prison. Even if prisoners were to escape there was nowhere to go, because it was slap down in the middle of the water.

"Not the most welcoming of ports," said Hawke

"Tevinter, I believe," She sighed.

Hawke could tell that Wesley was still on her mind. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"No," she said as she caught one of the ropes, then leaned slightly over the water. "You?"

Hawke couldn't stop thinking about Bethany and wonder there was anything he could have done to savour. "Ask me again another day." He lowered himself so that he was right next to her. "Is there anyone we need to notify? For you, or…?"

She shook her head. "He shouldn't have come. He didn't have authorisation or… He shouldn't have come."

"He was a good man," said Hawke.

"I know."

* * *

They soon reached shore, but found they had a new problem.

"They're not letting anyone into the city," Aveline noted.

Leandra blinked. "What? That can't be."

"It's true. Look at them all." There were hundreds of refugees scattered around the courtyard in various stages of desperation and city guards preventing anyone from entering.

"Are we really surprised?" said Carver furiously as he kicked a stone into the wall. "Everyone's fleeing the Blight, just as we are."

Aveline shook her head. "And they would throw us all back to the wolves. Unbelievable."

Hawke gave them a firmed look. "So long as we're safe, that's more important."

"We need to find Gamlen," said Leandra. "Our family have always been highly regarded in Kirkwall. He can do something, I'm sure of it!"

"Let's hope he received your letter," said Carver, but he sounded sceptical.

"The guards seem to be reporting to that man. Perhaps we should speak to him."

* * *

The guardsman guarding the front of the gate told them to look for Captain Ewald, who was in the courtyard. The guardsmen didn't exactly look typically pleased to allow any refugees in, he also mentioned that the Knight-Commander of the templars was the true power in Kirkwall, which wasn't very reassuring for him at least.

They found Captain Ewald in the courtyard all right, but he seemed to be in the middle of an argument with several well-armed refugees, he wondered if they were bandits or maybe even deserters, but right now he's more concerned about his family.

"Let me through, you flaming blighter!" the refugees' leader ordered. "We're not staying in this pit!"

"Then get back on your ship and leave," said Captain Ewald narrowing his eyes. "Kirkwall has no more room for refugees."

"The ship's already gone! We paid for coin getting here!" said another refugee.

"You and half of Ferelden. There's nothing I can do! The city is full!"

"One of the guard said you were letting people who have business in the city," said Hawke as they approached Captain Ewald.

"That's right!" said the refugee leader. "We've seen you that lots of people through!"

Captain Ewald groaned. "Citizens and merchants that make it worth our while." He then looked a Hawke. "I'll assume that you don't have any more coin than these gentlemen? We've been letting you Fereldens in for months. You're too late. There's no more room!"

"But we've got family here!" said Carver angrily.

Captain Ewald rubbed his temples. "I've heard claims like that and thousand times already. Trust me. We'll find some ships to take you back to Ferelden—eventually. Until then, you stay here."

Hawke sighed. "Our uncle is Gamlen Amell. He knows we're coming. Surely someone could find him."

"Gamlen. I know that name…"

Carver stepped forward eagerly. "He's a nobleman here in the city. Our family has an estate."

The guard blinked. "A nobleman? The only Gamlen I know is a weasel who couldn't rub two coppers together." He shrugged. "He comes back, I'll bring you to him. But I don't have time to—"

"What?" said the refugee leader furiously. "You're going to let them through?"

"I didn't say anything about—"

"We've been here for four days!" a refugee yelled. "They just got here!"

"That's it! We're carving away out of here. Men!"

Hawke shock his head. Calling up his magic in a templar stronghold would not have been his first choice. He slammed the spiked butt of his staff into the face of one of the attackers, then twirled it and swung it into the legs of another. He, Aveline, Carver, and the guardsman formed a defensive circle, backs to each other. It took the rest of the guard almost a full minute to realize there was even a problem, and by that time, it was handled.

"Unbelievable," Captain Ewald muttered.

The guard from the front of the gates then came rushing up. "Captain! Are you all right?"

"I am, no thanks to you. Where is everyone? Go find them. I want this kept under control." He turned to face Hawke. "You have my thanks." He hesitated a moment, then sighed. "Look, I can't get you into the city. It's not my decision, but I'll find your uncle and bring him here."

* * *

Their assistance to the captain may not have provided them with entrance into the city, but he did let them through the first set of gates, granting them a more secure place to wait.

Aveline was pacing again. "It's been three days. This waiting has to end."

"I'm sure it won't be much longer," said Leandra trying to comfort the other woman. "Gamlen must still be looking for us."

"And if he's not?" Aveline asked.

Hawke then caught sight of a man looking around and heading in their direction. The set of his jaw… there was just enough resemblance. "Wait. I think someone is coming."

The man certainly wasn't dressed as a noble. He actually looked worse off than some of the refugees. But he smiled as he approached. "Leandra! Damn, girl, the years haven't been kind to you."

"Gamlen!" Leandra said throwing her arms around him.

Gamlen returned the hug, and then sighed. "Let me say up front, I wasn't expecting this. The Blight, your husband dead… I'd, ah, figured you'd pretty much be Ferelden for life."

"Oh, Gamlen, we came too late. My darling Bethany didn't make it, Andraste guide her."

"Oh, Maker save me. Leandra, don't drop this on me here. I don't even know if I can help you get in."

Somehow Hawke expected as much, he was very confident that both he Carver and Aveline could look after themselves, it was mother he was more concerned about. "I'm more concerned about Mother. Can you get her in, at least?"

Gamlen shook his head. "I was hoping to grease some palms, but the knight-commander's been cracking down. We're gonna need more grease."

"But…" Leandra shook her head in confusion. "What about the estate? Surely Father left something when he died."

"Right, about the estate…" Gamlen shifted nervously. "It's, uh, gone. To settle a debt. I've been meaning to write you."

His mother was going to start crying again. Hawke had a feeling that there was no estate the moment Captain Ewald mentioned Gamlen, but he had hoped that it was just a common name.

"Then there's no hope." Leandra started to turn towards Hawke.

Gamlen gestured as he spoke. "Not quite. I know some people who might help…" He wouldn't quite meet Hawke's eyes. "If you're not too delicate about the company you keep."

He was an apostate. It wasn't so much delicate as very, very careful. "Mother said our family was wealthy. You really can't help us?"

Their newly beloved uncle narrowed his eyes. "I am blighted helping! I've got two offers of work from people who've got the coin to open those gates."

"I still can't believe you sold the estate," said Leandra shaking her head, her expression crushed. She'd spent most of the boat trip talking about the estate, the drapes, the little garden she'd wandered as a child. The window she'd climbed from one evening to meet their father. "Gamlen, how could you?"

"Well, I didn't expect your blasted family to show up on my doorstep. I've got a nice place in Lowtown. You'll see. It'll all work out."

Hawke groaned, it appeared once again they had no other choice, as much as he hated to admit it. "We don't have any choice, do we? I need to get my family into Kirkwall."

"I talked to my contacts and I found some people who might be willing to pay your way into the city." Gamlen hesitated, shifting his weight and eyes. "The catch is you and your brother will have to work off the debt. For a year."

"A year!" Leandra stared.

"It's the best I could do," said Gamlen defensively. "Trust me when I say a bunch of refugees won't get a better option anywhere else."

Hawke shook his head in disbelief. "So you're selling us into indentured servitude? That your idea?"

"Think of it as having a job waiting for you and your new home!" Gamlen shrugged.

"I guess it's only for a year, right?" said Carver.

Gamlen nodded. "I managed to convince my contacts to come to the Gallows to meet you personally. Meeran heads up the mercenary company, the Red Iron. They're looking for recruits. Athenril… I guess you might call her a smuggler." He shrugged. "Either one of them can help you. All you need to do is find them in the courtyard and convince them you're worth the trouble."

Gabriel nodded, and then glanced over his shoulder at his brother. "What do you think about this, Carver?"

Carver shrugged. "What can I say? Better here than nowhere."

He nodded to his brother, and then considered a moment. Working for the smuggler sounded tricky, considering they would have to be stealthy and with him being a mage and Carver attitude it would have been impossible. "What kind of a man is this Meeran?"

"He's a hired sword. What do you expect him to be like?" Gamlen shrugged. "I wouldn't bring him home for dinner or anything, but he's got a decent reputation. I wouldn't have asked him if I thought he'd cross you."

"Let's find them and see what they have to say." Hawke sighed. He was a fair combatant with the staff. Maybe he could get a spear or something.

Leandra gave them a worried look. "Oh Gamlen, I don't know about this."

Frustration mounted on Gamlen's face. "It's a lot of coin, Leandra. Don't go expecting our name to carry the kind of weight it used to."

Aveline stepped forward. "And what of me? I will not allow others to incur debts on my behalf."

Gamlen's eyes went to a location a bit lower than her face. "Can't see it makes a difference. You look like a lady who can pull her own weight."

Leandra held out a hand to the other woman. "Then you'll come with us."

Aveline blinked, clearly touched by the offer. "I… have no real option. Thank you."

* * *

They found Meeran and several of his other mercenaries. Holding know him and he could already tell the man was tough and stern by the way he stood.

"Meeran," said Hawke.

Meeran looked at Hawke curiously. "Huh. So you're Garrett? The nephew? Your uncle talk of a storm about you. He better not be blowing more smoke out of his ass."

"Getting us into the city will take a lot of coin."

Meeran laughed. "Did I mention the Red Iron gets paid pretty well? Not to mention your uncle said you were a mage. We're willing to pay for that."

Hawke groaned. "I didn't realise Gamlen told you that."

"You stick with us, you'll be safe," Meeran assured. "For the year, at least."

He noticed that Carver, at least, seemed enthusiastic about the idea. If the Red Iron could keep the templars off his back. "I'm ready to prove myself."

"Noble bastard named Friedrich is here in the Gallows. Gave us bad info, almost killed my men." Meeran gestured. "Now he's hiding out here, waiting for a ship. He sees us coming, he'll run for sure. But he doesn't know you. Go kill him and his men. We'll make sure no one asks why."

* * *

It took them only a couple minutes to locate Friedrich. It took only a minute more for any misgivings they'd had about killing the man to vanish. And then Friedrich helped things out further by actually initiating the conflict. It only took about a minute to wipe out both him and his guards out.

Then it was back to Meeran. "We've done what you asked."

"Good. May the bloody vultures feast on his corpse and shit him into the ocean."

Carver laughed. "I'll telling you, I love this guy!"

Hawke rolled his eyes and best thought that it was wise not to mention this to mother.

"Welcome to the Red Iron," said Meeran as he opened his arms in a fatherly way. "Tell your uncle I'm making the arrangements now."

* * *

They filled Gamlen in, and watched the man go off to make the bribes.

"I guess we did it. We're here to stay, at least for a while," said Carver.

Hawke sighed. "The Blight may still spread, but for now we have a new home."

"If only Bethany were here with us," Leandra weaved.

"And Wesley," Aveline added.

Two failures on his conscious, and they weren't even past the city gates. "Let's just see what happens. We have a long year ahead of us." He then turned and looked at Aveline. "Aveline, you aren't bound by the year."

"Yes, but…"

Hawke sighed. "Any debt you incurred getting into the city has long since been paid."

She shook her head. "After all you've done for me, it seems wrong to just walk off and leave you."

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "You and I both know that you not want working outside the law."

Aveline nodded. "True, I'll say if there are any job going for the city guards."

"Then I guess guest we'll be seen you around," said Hawke holding out his hand.

"No one is going to get you, Garrett," she said taking it.

"Please, just call me Hawke, I prefer to spread my father's name around Hawke."

Aveline nodded and they made their way to the port where ship would take them to their new home.


	4. A Friend in the Guard

Cassandra stepped out of the room for a moment to talk with Leliana privately in the hall.

"Well?" she asked crossing her arms.

The former bard crossed her arms. "He could be telling the truth."

"He's yet to tell us anything useful or even marginally helpful," Cassandra reminded.

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Leliana. "I remember Bethany back when I was in Lothering and I did wonder what happened to her after the Blight, though I never imagined that she was a mage at the time, I didn't even know that she and Daylen were even cousins. Still it is early in the story to contradict him."

Cassandra nodded in agreement, but house what the dwarf said next would shed more light on their situation.

* * *

Varric continued his story the moment that the Seeker re-entered the room, he was unsure why she had left and he didn't want to. The most important thing now was approved to the Seeker was that his friend was innocent.

" _Thus began the Champion's first year in Kirkwall. Word arrived across the sea that the Hero of Ferelden had defeated the Blight. But Lothering was destroyed, Kirkwall was the Champion's home now. So he made his name, settling his debts with the mercenaries._

" _It was a busy year in the city. That's when the Qunari landed. A great storm caught their ship and left hundreds of warriors stranded in the city, waiting to return home. That's also when the trouble began with the mages. The templars have become very powerful under Knight-Commander Meredith._

" _But most importantly, that's when I first met the Champion._ "

* * *

Hawke and Carver were up in Hightown having a conversation with a dwarf named Bartrand Tethras, who is organising a expedition into the Deep Roads. If they could get on that expedition they could very well find a fortune down there.

Unfortunately, they weren't the only ones who had come up with the same idea and Bartrand had his fill of it. It did not help matters that Carver had gotten more angry over the year, especially after they cut ties with the Red Iron.

"No," said Bartrand, practically stomping away from them. "Andraste's tits, human! You know how many people want to hire onto this expedition?"

Carver clenched his fists. "Look, we know you're going into the Deep Roads. You'll need to hire the best, and we're—"

"No! You're too late! Already done!"

"The money from this trip could fix everything! You need us. We've fought darkspawn."

Bartrand squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Look, precious, I don't care if you tore the horns of an ogre with your bare hands."

Carver tried arguing further before throwing up his hands and turning to Hawke. "You make him understand. We're running from your bloody templars!"

"I know how you feel, but we'll earn no favours with your fist in his face," said Hawke calmly.

"Then we do nothing, as always," Carver grumbled.

Hawke rolled his eyes and turned to Bartrand. "My brother can be hotheaded, but we do have the skills to benefit your expedition."

Bartrand spat. "You're looking for a quick way out of the slums, right? You and every other Ferelden in this dump." He waved them away. "Find another meal ticket."

"Well," said Carver kicked at the ground. "Back to waiting for someone to turn us in."

"You can relax," Hawke said. "After all, the templars dogging us are 'mine'."

"Did I sound that bad?" Carver sighed as they started walking. "Maker, I'm turning into Gamlen." He shrugged. "Gamlen. He's got the head for this garbage. Maybe he can talk to Bartrand. He knows some people. After last week, we need all the coin and influence we can get."

The templars had recently been knocking on doors in Lowtown. Fortunately, he had been keeping his magic hidden very well, but he was unsure how long that would last. Hawke wasn't entirely convinced Gamlen wouldn't sell them out for some coin. "You catch more flies with honey, but Gamlen's bullshit could work too."

"Well, he did get us into the city, right?" Carver grumbled. "What else can we do? We're losing ground, and I don't fancy waking up in the Gallows."

Hawke sighed. His mother would likely get a light sentence for harbouring an apostate, but his brother would end up on a work detail. If he didn't get executed for actively trying to defend him. He'd told Carver a dozen times if they did get caught, just let the templars take him. Carver made it very clear he had no intention of listening.

Before he could say a single word, a young man brushed against him and he felt a hand brush his side. A quick look down revealed his coinpurse was missing. He wheeled around, catching sight of the red-haired thief.

"Hey!" he yelled.

At once he gave chase and Carver a step behind.

They turned the corner in time to see the thief take a crossbow bolt to the shoulder. The culprit was a ginger haired dwarf, with an absurd amount of chest hair and a strange looking crossbow alike to which he had never seen.

"I knew a guy once who could take every coin out of your pocket just by smiling at you," said the dwarf. "But you? You don't have the style to work Hightown, let alone the Merchants Guild."

He then extended his hand and the thief gave him the coinpurse. "Might what a find yourself a new line of work." He then punched him in the face and yanked out the bolt. "Off you go."

The dwarf then approached them and tossed Hawke back his coinpurse. "How do you do? Varric Tethras, at your service." He stowed the crossbow bolt. "I apologise for Bartrand. He wouldn't know an opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw."

"But you would?"

"I would. What my brother doesn't realise is that we need someone like you. He would never admit it, either—he's too proud. I, however, am quite practical."

In Kirkwall, suspicion was a virtue. "What makes you so certain we can help? You know nothing about us."

Varric shook his head. "On the contrary—you've made quite the name for yourself over the last year." He paced from side to side. "Serving with the Red Iron is no mean feat; yet you not only served, you impressed. The name 'Hawke' is on many lips these days. Not bad for a Ferelden fresh off the boat."

He began to wonder how much the dwarf knew about him. "You must have heard of my brother as well, then."

"A little, yes, but it is you they speak most of, messere."

"That figures," Carver said. He shook his head.

"Your brother is certainly welcome to join us, by all means, but I'll leave that in your hands."

"Oh, I'm going. Without this expedition, we won't last out the year."

It was too easy. There had to be a catch, because as the witch said a year ago there was always a catch. "You're going awfully far out of your way just to hire another guard."

"We don't need another hireling—we need a partner!" Varric sighed. "The truth is, Bartrand's been tearing his beard out trying to fund this on his own, but he can't do it. Invest in the expedition. Fifty sovereigns and he can't refuse. Not with me there to vouch for you."

The coinpurse the dwarf had recently returned contains six coppers, two silvers, a shiny piece of quartz, and a tooth. "I hope there's more to this. Like how I'm supposed to get that much coin together."

"You need to think big! There's only a brief window after a Blight when the Deep Roads won't be crawling with darkspawn." Varric smiled confidently. "The treasure you find down there could set you and your family up for life."

"Come on, the dwarf makes some sense," said Carver glanced at Varric. "No offense." He turned back to Hawke. "Look, you started this—and it's a good idea. Certainly better than ending up in the Gallows."

"We work together, you and I, and before you know it, you'll have all the capital you need." Varric spat in his palm and held out his hand. "What do you say?"

Carver had actually admitted he had a good idea. Hawke spat in his own palm, and shook the dwarf's hand. "You have a deal."

"Perfect," Varric said. He then looked at them all businesslike. "Kirkwall's crawling with work. You set aside some coin for every job, and you'll have the money in no time!"

"Sure, easy," said Carver sceptically. "But… maybe Aveline's got some bounties out. She joined the city guard, right?"

It was settled that they would go and see Aveline, but as they walked Hawke heard something from Varric that made him question his decision for the deal.

"You named your crossbow Bianca?" he blinked.

"And why not? She's a beauty. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" He caressed the grip of the weapon.

It was, actually. The entire mechanism was fascinating. A spring like it had could perhaps be built into a staff, letting a blade shoot out. He knew people often name their weapons, but they don't usually give them a woman's name. He began to wonder there was more to the story than Varric was letting on.

* * *

They soon reached the keep, which was the centre of power in all of Kirkwall, it was where people went to deal with business with both the city guard and the viscount, the ruler of the city. It was easiest the tallest building in the entire city and no doubt was where the Imperium ruled from.

"You can't miss the keep," Varric said. "It practically screams 'nothing fun ever happens here."

"It was made by the Imperium," Hawke reminded. "I doubt any of them had a sense of humour."

Varric chuckled. "True enough."

* * *

They found Aveline in the barracks wearing her city guard armour. It looks as if she fitted quite well in Kirkwall, no doubt her time serving in the king's army helped get this position in the city guard.

She had her back turned to them and was looking at noticeboard fall of different routes and patrols.

"Aveline," Hawke smiled.

"Hello, Hawke," she said without turning around.

He sighed. "Been a while. Hasn't it?"

"What?" She turned around. "Oh, right. Sorry, it feels like we just talked. I've been keeping an eye on you. Information is one of the few perks of this job. Watch out for Bartrand—he's a son of a bitch."

He groaned, ever since she joined the city guard, Aveline had been keeping an eye on him. "You know I don't like it when you have people watch me."

"Saved me camping on your doorstep. After what we went through to get here…" She sighed. "Well… you're no child, but I take care of my friends." After a moment, she leaned on the wall. "The places they have me patrolling, I've got time."

"Still having trouble?" Hawke frowned. "I thought you were past all that."

"Lately, I don't know. I've been pushed out to some dead patrols. Maybe I stepped on someone's toes."

"You can be…" He paused as he tried to find the right word. "…forceful."

Aveline smiled. "My charm, right? I should be able to go I'm needed." She glanced to the side, then back at him. "In fact, I might have a job for you. Let me know if you want me to do a favor for Kirkwall." She shrugged. "Otherwise, I'm here if you need me. Maker knows I could use more satisfying work."

Work was good, it's what he'd come for. Having Aveline at his back was always good. She was family. "All right, Aveline. You have something worth doing?"

"My patrols may be empty walks in the dark, but there's something big coming up, and I could use you." She lowered her voice slightly. "An ambush. Probably for a caravan, although I can't find any shipments that match up." Her face set itself into determined lines. "Doesn't matter, though. Highwaymen waiting for someone to rob? I'm putting a stop to it, my district or not."

They both keep the city safe and get some extra coin. Kill two birds with one stone. "Aveline, you've got yourself a partner."

Her face lit up when she smiled. "I knew I could count on you. They're hidden up Sundermount. Remote and rough, but we can make good time with a shortcut this side." She started to walk away, then obviously remembered with whom she was speaking. Her finger pressed against his chest. "And no, you can't run off and do it without me. I trust you, but I have to be there. You're acting on behalf of the guard."

* * *

They brought Varric along. Partly to get an idea of the man's capabilities, partly because an extra hand was always welcome, but mostly to see whether he could trust the dwarf.

Sundermount took them nearly two hours outside of the city. Hawke stretched, and took a moment to breath. He glanced at Aveline. "Doesn't seem to be a lot of potential witnesses out here."

She glanced at him, catching the question. "A little fire would likely go unnoticed."

He smiled. "Seems like Kirkwall suits you."

"It has been a challenge. Lots of opportunity… if you're the type the locals want."

"Are you?"

She sighed. "If you argue enough, you kind of convince yourself."

"The Blight is over. You could go back to Lothering." He'd tried to convince his mother, but Leandra was determined to remain in Kirkwall. There were too many memories back in Ferelden.

"That wasn't home for me. It was just where the horde pressed us." She put a hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't the first village I saw fall. But you don't get used to people losing everything."

"It's not how I wanted to say goodbye, I'll give you that."

"You can't go home again. That's supposed to be about maturity. It's not the same if you don't have the option."

He glanced over his shoulder at where Carver and Varric were bickering about the merits and hardships of being younger siblings. "This must be a very different pace from serving King Cailan."

"I loved that life, but there's a new king for a new Ferelden." She shrugged. "Seems cocksure, but I guess he was there when the Archdemon fell. Can't fault an active hand." One of her shoulders twitched. "It's just one more change, though. The real end for me was Ostagar." She glanced back at the others. "What about you, Carver? You were there. Do you feel something similar?"

"No," said Carver simply.

She merely shook her head at him. "All right, then." She glanced back at Hawke. "Bit of a tit, your brother."

* * *

They hit the first bandits halfway up the trail. He called down a firestorm while Carver and Aveline hit the second group. Varric was certainly skilled with his crossbow, because he was able to place the bolt in a banded about one hundred yards away and then he was able disarmed the traps but they had laid.

There was another group before they found the main ambush party. He used another firestorm to break their lines. Carver and Aveline charged in as the bandits tried to run in all directions. Varric disarmed the traps as Aveline began to check the bodies.

"Well-equipped for bandits, but dead is dead and the road is clear," Aveline smiled. "Captain Jeven needs to know of this. Back to the barracks for your just reward."

* * *

Things did not go according to plan. He leaned against the doorway as he heard Jeven yelling at Aveline, he spoke so loudly that he could be heard through the wooden door

"I don't know how they do it where you're from, Guardswoman, but I decide the patrols, not you and your whims. You may have been put up for lieutenant in your first year, but I'll have no show-offs in my command. Have I made myself clear? Report to your post, before I have you and your Fereldan accomplice jailed."

Aveline then stormed out of the man's office with a look of frustration and fury on her face. He gave her a moment to catch her breath and compose herself. "A lot of yelling for doing him a favour."

"We killed a band of highwayman. What is the matter whose patrol it was?" He saw the concern in her green eyes. "It's not the first time he's made me wonder like this. Something is very wrong."

He agreed. "So let's find out whose toes you actually stepped on."

Aveline nodded. "Then let's check the duty roster, and see who was supposed to take that route." She walked towards the roster, muttering to herself. "What I stepped in this time?"

They wandered over to the duty roster and began searching for the duty patrols. That was when another guard came up to her, a woman with short dark blonde hair.

"Aveline." She smiled at Aveline. "I owe you for clearing that ambush the other night. Saved me a mess of trouble."

Aveline turned and looked at her. "Brennan, that route was yours?"

"It was. Single patrol. I'd have been dead for sure."

He exchanged a glance with Aveline. "So there was nothing unusual about it at all?"

Brennan shook her head. "It had been cleared for weeks. It lingered unusual until at that we heard about you and Aveline." She looked back at Aveline. "The captain reassigned me after he heard what you did, and I passed the satchel to Donnic for his patrol tonight."

Hawke looked up. "The satchel?"

"Pay and order assignments. Captain has us run deliveries to the outposts during light duty. It's usually just an updated copy of the roster. The satchel for that night was heavy, though. Anyway, thanks again, Aveline. You're a good one."

Aveline turned to look at him. "So the satchel gets heavy the same day we discover an ambush."

He nodded. "A messy way to pass information, and Brennan already said it along."

"Another guard is walking into the same trap, I can't let that happen." She looked over the roster. "Brennan said Donnic… a good man, Donnic… Donnic. I've got his route. A night walk in Lowtown. Let's go make sure his quiet patrol stays that way."

"Carver and Varric were heading to the Hanged Man. We can grab them on the way."

"Thank you."

* * *

"What do you mean that wasn't the right group of bandits?" Carver sighed. "How many groups of bandits are there in Kirkwall?"

"It's a long story, I'll explain later," said Hawke. He glanced at Aveline. "Which way?"

"Towards the foundry." She started moving, and he fell into step behind her.

After a minute, she held up her hand, then glanced back at him. Donnic was on the ground. He wasn't moving, which meant he was still alive, but with that many around him… if they charged in, Donnic would either be killed or used as a hostage. He met Aveline's eyes, then touched his staff. She nodded.

He sent the swath of ice high, catching most of the bandits at the waste level and missing Donnic entirely. Aveline and Carver charged the moment he flung the spell, taking advantage of the confusion to plant themselves on either side of the downed man. He then fired a fireball and brought down the group of archers that were aiming at the two of them.

Aveline moved to the downed guard's side as soon as the last of the bandits were dead. She glanced up at Hawke, and he wove a healing spell before going to investigate the satchel. Donnic blinked up at Aveline. "Who… Ave… Aveline?" She pulled him to his feet. "You're a beautiful sight."

"Guardsman?" Aveline's voice was soft. However Hawke was more focused on the satchel.

Donnic shook his head as if clearing cobwebs. "I mean, I was on patrol, and they came out of nowhere. I took a few down but there were too many at once." He looked around, and his eyes widened slightly. "The captain said this route was supposed to be quiet."

Hawke began laying out the contents of the satchel. Carver frowned. "The seal of the viscount. Office details, city accounts."

"Valuable to a guild of thieves," Hawke said.

Aveline narrowed her eyes. "A sacrificial delivery with one of our own. Captain Jeven will answer."

Hawke placed the contents back in the satchel and handed it over to her. "Exposing this kind of corruption could make the garden look weak."

Aveline just gave him a firm look. "Then we look weak. The others deserve better." She looked down at the satchel. "This goes to the office of the viscount. This will be known." She looked down at the dead. "The captain likes his thieves so much, let's see if they welcome him in prison."

Hawke stood, and nodded to Donnic. The man returned the nod. "I'll make it back to the barracks." His eyes went briefly to Hawke's staff. "Thank you for your help."

* * *

The moment they returned back to the keep they informed the proper officials of the situation immediately. Seneschal Bran accompanied both he and Aveline to witness the arrest of Jeven. Jeven was practically throwing a tantrum. "How dare you! I am guard captain! I won't be treated like this!" He glared at Aveline. "Ferelden bitch! This was none of your affair! I'll see you hanged! Quartered! This will not stand!"

More than a few of the guards were hiding smiles. Some weren't bothering. Captain Jeven, it seemed, was not a well-liked man. Seneschal Bran turned towards Aveline. "We found a number of debts to… suspect peoples. Such poor character." He gave Aveline a respectful nod. "But you, Aveline Vallen, have proven your loyalty and ability."

"The guard deserves better than him, messere," she said plainly.

"Indeed. The viscount would have you put your care for the men into direct practice. You will assume the captain's job."

"What?" Aveline could only stare. Hawke started to smile.

"In due time, of course. There will be training, approvals. Months, at least." Seneschal Bran gestured. "But who better than to rebuild respect than the woman who exposed this… embarrassment. Resolve any outstanding business, Guardswoman. You will be very busy." Seneschal Bran left.

Aveline glanced over at him, and he gave her an encouraging smile. He wasn't the only one. Her one smile was a little bit trembling. She looked around the office, a trace of wonder on her face. He just smiled as he left the room and couldn't help but think that Aveline's promotion was a long time coming.

* * *

"It was a conspiracy that put Aveline into the Guard Captain's office, just not the one we thought." Cassandra shook her head.

"Considering what she has done in that position…" Leliana sighed. "Even if she'd personally slit Jeven's throat, we dare not act against her."

"True." Cassandra glanced back into the other room. "Do you think he is telling the truth?"

"I will need to hear more."


	5. Tranquillity

He found Varric at the Hanged Man. With the exception of dignity and decent booze, you could find almost anything at the Hanged Man. Varric was pacing around the table in his room. "So, here's the thing: we need to find a way into the Deep Roads." He glanced up. "Bartrand can lead us to the right place once we're down there, but we need a good entrance."

"I've fought darkspawn, but I've never been to the Deep Roads," said Hawke.

Varric leaned over the table. "Fortunately, I've received some new information. There's a Grey Warden in the city. If anyone knows how to get down there, it'll be him."

"Sounds like you have it all planned out, Varric."

Varric gave him a small bow. "And that, messere, is why I'm here." He shrugged. "Supposedly, this Grey Warden came in with some other Ferelden refugees not long ago. A Lowtown woman named Lirene has been helping the Fereldens. We talk to her, maybe we learn where he is. I'll keep after my contacts - see if I can drum up any other work."

* * *

They found Lirene's shop. It was full of the desperate, seeking aid. A few of the faces looked vaguely familiar, though he saw no one from Lothering. A woman who must be Lirene looked up as they entered. "If you're seeking aid, leave your name with my girl. We serve everyone here—no one came from Ferelden without trouble." She gave him and his companions another look. "But I can't give priority to anyone who's already found work and lodging."

"Is there a way I can assist these people?"

"If you've coin to spare, we won't turn it down. Donations go in the box up front."

"I hear you know where I can find a Fereldan Grey Warden."

"Only Fereldan Grey Wardens I know of are sitting on the throne. We're out of the Blight's path now. Why would you need a Warden?"

A grey haired woman spoke up. "The healer was one of them once, wasn't he? A Warden?"

"Well, he's not now. And busy enough without answering fool questions about it."

"Who are you protecting?" asked Hawke.

Lirene gestured at the room. "You see what our people face in Kirkwall. They have no jobs, no homes. Most can barely buy bread. The healer, he serves them without thought for coin. He's closed their wounds, delivered their children."

Aveline frowned. "And yet he needs to hide?"

"He's a good man. I won't lose him to the blighted templars."

Hawke blinked. "You mean he's a mage?"

"Would I stick my neck out for some purveyor of hensbane and leeches?" She glared.

"Oh, perish the thought. Another delicate mage flower." Carver just shook his head.

"He doesn't want to be locked in the Gallows just for using the gifts the Maker gave him."

"Your healer is in no danger from me," Hawke assured.

"Right," said Caver a little uncertainly. "Perfectly safe if he cooperates."

"I suppose it isn't my secret to keep. Anders has certainly been free enough with his services. Refugees in Darktown know—to find the healer, look for the lit lantern. If you have need enough, Anders will be within."

They stopped at the donation box on the way out. He threw in a sovereign, and was pleasantly surprised to see Carver, Aveline, and Varric all do the same thing.

* * *

They'd made it only a few steps before being accosted by armed men. "Hey! We heard you in there. Asking about the healer." The speaker narrowed his eyes. "We know what happens to mages in this town. And it ain't gonna happen to him."

It was Carver who stepped forward. "You want him safe? Don't pick fights with other Fereldans while the templars are after us all."

The man blinked, then sheathed his blades. "Fereldan? But… you, your clothes." He shrugged. "I figured you for a Kirkwaller. Sorry." He gave a small bow. "Maker bless the rule of our King Alistair and Queen Elisa." The armed men walked away.

Hawke sent his brother a look. Carver pointedly didn't meet his eyes, but the look on his brother's face was incorrigibly smug.

* * *

"I'm surprised you still travel with us, Aveline."

Aveline sighed. "Carver, don't."

"You're ever so busy with the guardsmen. It must be a burden to slum with the refugees." Carver kicked a rock.

"It's oddly comforting that you insult me like I'm family."

"That wasn't… no, I didn't mean that."

"I know. But you should be glad that's how I took it."

Hawke chuckled, earning himself a glare from his brother.

* * *

It took a few minutes to find the lit lantern. Hawke held his hand up to halt the others. A blond man was standing over a child, his fingers glowing with the white light of a healing spell while the child's parents looked on anxiously. The child gasped, and sat up. Immediately the woman threw her arms around him and began to sob. The healer staggered slightly, and the father went to help him. After a moment, the healer stood up straight, and waved the man away. The family left.

Hawke waited a moment, and then entered. The healer grabbed a staff and whirled around. "I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation. Why do you threaten it?"

"I'm just here to talk," said Hawke calmly.

"We're interested in getting into the Deep Roads," Varric added. "Rumour has it you were once a Grey Warden. Do you know the way?"

The healer relaxed only slightly. "Did the Wardens send you to bring me back?" He gestured. "I'm not going. Those bastards made me get rid of my cat." He shook his head. "Poor Sir Pounce-a-lot. He hated the Deep Roads."

"You had a cat named Sir Pounce-a-lot? In the Deep Roads?"

A defensive look came over the healer's face. "He was a gift. A noble beast." He smiled fondly. "Almost got ripped in half by a genlock once. He swatted the bugger on the nose. Drew blood, too." He sighed. "The blighted Wardens said he 'made me too soft.' I had to give him to a friend in Amaranthine."

"So you came to Kirkwall just to escape the Wardens?"

"You say that like it's a small thing." He shrugged. "Yes, I'm here because there's no Warden outpost, no darkspawn, and a whole host of refugees to blend in with." He looked away. "And some reasons of my own."

"I'm part of an expedition into the Deep Roads. Any information you have could save people's lives."

"I will die a happy man if I never think about the blighted Deep Roads again." He gestured dismissively. "You can't imagine what I've come through to get here. I'm not interested…" Anders gave him a considering look. "Although… a favour for a favour. Does that sound like a fair deal? You help me, I'll help you?"

"Help my expedition reach the Deep Roads, and I'll do whatever you need."

Anders looked at him surprised. "You don't ask for my terms? What if I were asking for the knight-commander's head on a spike?"

"Is that what you ask?" Hawke asked raising an eyebrow.

"You decide. I have a Warden map of the depths in this area. But there's a price. I came to Kirkwall to aid a friend. A mage. A prisoner in the wretched Gallows. The templars learned of my plans to free him. Help me bring him safely past them, and you shall have your maps."

Hawke glanced back at the others. Both Aveline and Carver looked unhappy. He sighed. "Tell me about your friend."

"His name is Karl Thekla. He was sent here from Ferelden when Kirkwall's Circle required new talent. His last letter said the knight-commander was turning the Circle into a prison. Mages are locked in their cells, refused appearances at court, made Tranquil for the slightest crimes. I told him I would come."

"Are these accusations true?" He'd heard the rumours himself, and heard them too often to simply discount them out of hand.

"Ask any mage in Kirkwall. Over a dozen were made Tranquil just this year. The more people you ask, the worse the rumours become."

"You want to make your friend an apostate?"

"That's such a weighted term." Anders shook his head and gestured. "Yes, Andraste said magic should serve man, not rule him. But I've yet to find a mage who wants to rule anything. It goes against no will of the Maker for mages to live as free as other men."

He had a point. "Forcing mages into servitude is not the way to prevent the rise of another Imperium."

Anders blinked, and then smiled. "That's not usually the response I get. Perhaps we will work together better than I expected."

Hawke glanced at his companions again. The risk went further than just him. If he came to the templars attention… "I'm not sure about attacking templars. I might rather take my chances with the darkspawn."

"If we fight the templars, it is because they decide that anyone who befriends a mage deserves death without questioning."

And that was precisely the problem. Carver shook his head. "Doesn't fighting them prove their point? They don't need more reasons to hunt us."

"These are my terms. If you want my aid with your expedition, meet me in the chantry tonight. I have sent word to Karl to be there. Maker willing, we will all leave free men." Anders went to go assist other patients.

The others followed Gabriel outside. He met Aveline's eyes. "You can't be part of this."

"Hawke…" She started to give him a disapproving look.

"I mean it, Aveline. Besides, if this goes wrong, somebody is going to have to get Carver out of jail."

Aveline looked reluctant, but nodded.

"Varric?"

"We need those maps." He hefted Bianca. "I'm in."

* * *

Anders was waiting for them at the Chantry door. If he noticed the glare from Carver, he gave no sign of it. "I saw Karl go inside a few minutes ago. No templars so far." He looked Hawke over. "Are you ready?"

"I didn't see anyone suspicious out here. Let's do this fast."

"All right. I'll handle the talking. You watch for templars."

Anders pushed open the door. "When we find Karl, just let me talk to him."

* * *

They found Karl on the upper level, facing the wall as if examining the tapestry. When he spoke, his voice was odd. "Anders. I know you too well. I knew you would never give up."

Hawke felt a chill go down his spine. He glanced at Anders, and saw the other mage's face was pale. "What's wrong? Why are you talking like—" Anders cut off with a gasp as Karl turned around.

The sunburst brand stood out freshly on Karl's forehead. "I was too rebellious. Like you. The templars knew I had to be… made an example of."

"No," Anders said.

"How else will mages ever master themselves? You'll understand, Anders." Doors clicked open as templars began to emerge from their hiding places. "As soon as the templars teach you to control yourself." Karl gestured at Anders. "This is the apostate."

"No." Anders suddenly began to shake, and then blue light shown from his eyes as he reached for his staff. His voice changed, deepening and resonating. "You will never take another mage as you took him."

The templars moved to attack. Hawke sent a spray of ice to the left before twirling his staff and calling down fire. On his side, Carver used his blades, preventing the templars from getting near enough to use their abilities against him. Varric kept up fire from Bianca. And Anders unleashed some powerful spells that didn't look natural.

"I—Anders, what did you do?" Karl's voice sounded almost normal. Desperate and confused, but almost normal. "It's like… you brought a piece of the Fade into this world." Karl shook his head. "I had already forgotten what that feels like."

Hawke gestured for Carver and Varric to strip the templars of valuables. Hawke narrowed his eyes at Anders. "What did you do? Not the Fade part—the angry glowing bit." His hand twitched towards his staff, wanting to call down a spell against the other mage.

"It's like a gateway to the Fade inside you." Karl was staring. "Glowing like a beacon."

"I have… some unique circumstances, yes. But, Karl, what happened? How did they get you?"

"The templars here are far more vigilant than in Ferelden. They found a letter I was writing you…" Karl's voice was bleak. "You cannot imagine it, Anders. All the colour, all the music in the world, gone. I would gladly give up my magic, but this? I'll never be whole again." He held up a beseeching hand. "Please, kill me before I forget again! I don't know how you brought it back, but it's fading."

"Karl, no—"

Hawke looked away a moment. It was like staring at his worst nightmare. He found his voice. "I would rather die than be Tranquil. Help him." If Anders couldn't, he would.

"I got here too late," Anders said. "I'm sorry, Karl. I'm so sorry."

"Now," Karl said, practically begging. "It's fading…" His voice changed. "Why do you look at me like that?"

"Goodbye," Ander said, and drove the knife up under Karl's ribcage. He turned to them. "We should leave before more templars come."

* * *

Hawke followed Anders into the infirmary. "That wasn't normal magic you just did, was?"

Anders shook his head. "I… this is hard to explain. When I was in Amaranthine, I met a spirit of Justice who was trapped outside the Fade. We became friends. And he recognised the injustice that mages in Thedas face every day."

"So, you have this spirit of justice living in your head?"

"It's not like that. He's gone now. He's a part of me." Anders' voice held a note of regret. "It's not like we can… have a conversation. I feel his thoughts as my own. Not even the greatest scholar could tell you where I end and he begins."

Hawke sighed. "That really didn't look like a happy, benevolent spirit from where I was standing."

"The templars will think the same." Carver shook his head. "We're friends with a monster."

"Since when is justice happy?" Anders gestured. "Justice is righteous. Justice is hard." He leaned on the pillar. "But my anger… when I see templars now, things that have always outraged me, but I could never do anything about… He comes out. And he is no longer my friend Justice. He is a force of vengeance. And he has no grasp of mercy."

Hawke sighed. "This is obviously difficult for you."

"For him?" Carver stared. "We'll be hunted for sure now."

"I thought I was helping my friend. He would have…" Anders shook his head. "Died, I guess. If that even means anything. And he wanted to help me. He knew what mages have suffered."

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Hawke asked. He could practically feel Carver's disapproving eyes.

Anders smiled. "You're the first one I've ever told this. Thank you for not running away. My maps are yours. As am I, if you wish me to join your expedition." He stood up straight. "I thought I was done with the Grey Wardens, but if you have any need of me… I will be waiting here."

* * *

"Karl Thekla?"

Leliana shook her head. "I've never heard of him." She sighed. "So it was the same spirit from Amaranthine."

"I still do not understand why that was allowed in the first place," Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "Leliana, you must know there were some rumours just after the Warden-Commander conscripted Anders."

"You mean the ones about Rylock's disappearance?"

"Yes. Specifically, that it was the commander that killed her." Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "You knew him. Do you think there is any truth to those rumours?"

"I think that if he killed templars, he had a reason for doing so other than simply 'they were templars'." Leliana sighed. "This is like putting together a puzzle with only half the pieces. We need to hear more."


	6. Birthright

When he and Carver returned to the house they found mother and Gamlen arguing, again.

"My children have been in servitude—servitude—for a year. They should be nobility."

"If wishes were poppy, we'd all be dreaming."

Hawke sighed, and walked over. "You mean, this is real? No wonder I can't wake up."

Gamlen threw up his hands. "And here I thought that Ferelden you ran off with was a mage, not a jester." He turned his focus away from mother and towards Hawke. "Your mother was supposed to marry the Comte de Launcet, and instead she ran off with some Ferelden apostate. You don't get to stay the favourite when you do that."

Personally he liked the name, Hawke, because it was a strong name. Launcet sounded like something that required ointment. Mother, however, wasn't interesting in dropping the argument. "Where is Father's will? If I could just see for myself—"

"It's not here, all right! It was read, it went into the vault. No one needed to look at it again."

He made another attempt to distract her. "I know the Amells were nobility, Mother, but not much else. Why don't you ever talk about them?"

"The Amells have been a noble family in Kirkwall since Garahel drove out the Fourth Blight. But we've always carried magic in our blood. The Warden Mage that travelled with the Hero Ferelden to end the Blight was one of ours, you know. One of my cousin Revka's children. The Circle took them all. It's been a stain on our lineage. No family of good standing would ever marry into a line with magic." She sighed. "When I married your father, I was bringing more into our family, not less"

He then turned to Gamlen. "Please, Uncle. We have a right to see it for ourselves."

Gamlen sighed. "Maybe so. But you won't be seeing the bloody thing. It's still locked up on the estate. And that's long out of my hands."

Carver shook his head. "What daft bastard leaves that behind?"

Gamlen waved a hand dismissively. "It was old news. You think I've been sitting here for twenty-five years waiting for Leandra to slink back?"

"Who bought the estate, Gamlen? Perhaps I could speak to them. Was it the Reinhardts?"

"No one you know. Get used to Lowtown, Sister. That's where we're going to stay."

Gamlen stalked off, slamming the door behind him. Leandra blinked back tears, then went into the bedroom. She was going to cry again. He balled up his fist and wished there was something he could do.

Carver sighed. "Maker, what I mess. I want to make things better for Mother, but some of what Gamlen says… I'm having a hard time hating him." Carver walked towards the fireplace. "Playing caretaker for someone else's life, stuck in their shadow… that's no way to live."

"Something you need to say?"

Carver turned towards him. "Look, if you want to join the fight over who lost the most, fine. But I never lived here. Mother even gave me her old key to try and stir something. But I didn't know Grandfather. Finding his will doesn't matter to me."

He wished he knew what did matter to his brother. Since Bethany had… "You want a connection, this is where we'll find it."

"The once mighty Amells? A bunch of slavers are squatting on that dusty glory."

Hawke blinked. "What have you heard?"

"Uncle's a chatty drunk. He was up to his neck and signed everything over. That's who has the estate." Carver shrugged. "Apparently the most extensive wine cellar in Kirkwall is now a slave highway from the Undercity. That's the family legacy."

Slavers. And he was spoiling for a fight. "That sounds like an arrangement that needs to change."

"And what if it does? We still aren't important enough to actually live in the place."

He smiled. "Baby steps, Carver."

After a moment, Carver shook his head and returned the smile. "All right, Brother. If the key works, we'll clear the estate from the Undercity up."

* * *

The key worked, and they were in. Since they were technically breaking and entering, Hawke hadn't invited Aveline along. He'd rather not get her in trouble when things were going so well for her. The moment they entered their attack by slavers, but they didn't stand much of a chance against them.

Varric disarmed the few traps they found. "I expected a bit better security," Carver said.

Hawke smiled. "Come on, who'd be stupid enough to attack a slave cartel in their own hideout?"

"Well, there's us," Anders pointed out.

Varric snickered.

* * *

The leader of the slavers made a comment about slitting Gamlen's throat. Hawke hit him in the face with a fireball anyway.

"There's the vault. If there's anything to learn about the family, that's where it is." Carver began heading up the stairs.

Hawke unlocked the door with the key they'd taken from the dead cartel leader. There was a chest containing some gold and other valuables. Another chest contained a bunch of papers. And old letter written to his father… and a copy of the will. He scanned it, and narrowed his eyes.

"So this is it? Grandfather's will? Let's just take it back to Mother and be done with it."

He nodded. "I don't think there's any point in delaying the news."

* * *

When they entered they found Gamlen talking to mother.

"…so I'm just saying, blood's blood and all, but you are taking advantage of my hospitality," said Gamlen choosing his words carefully. "It's only fair if you make something of a… monthly contribution—"

"You sold my children into servitude! Now you're asking me to pay rent?" Leandra snapped.

"Uh… maybe just put something towards food…"

Hawke glared at Gamlen trying to keep his anger in check. "We found the will."

Carver then took the pace forwards. "Grandfather left everything to Mother and us. I guess he had some sense after all." He then handed the will over to Leandra. "See for yourself."

Gamlen began shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Uh, ah, I should… maybe…"

"To my daughter Leandra and all children born of her… the estate in Hightown and all associated revenues…"

Hawke leaned over her shoulder and pointed. "Check out the part where Gamlen is left only a stipend—to be controlled by you."

"Gamlen, how could you?" Leandra stared at her brother.

"You're the one who ran away, Leandra." He gestured. "What happened to 'love is so much more important than money…?'"

"It is!"

"You didn't even come home for the funeral!"

"The twins were a week old!"

"We all have our burdens. Mine was looking after a life you abandoned. How long was I supposed to wait?"

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "I doubt you let the ashes get cold."

"I took care of Father. I stayed! And on his deathbed, all we could talk about was Leandra," Gamlen said bitterly. "Look, Sister, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it, but I did. And there's nothing I can do to get it back."

"I don't expect that, Gamlen. It's enough to know Mother and Father didn't die angry." She set her shoulders, for a moment looking like her old self again. "I'll petition the viscount for rights to reclaim the estate. Maker willing, you'll have your 'house' back within weeks."

"You don't have the coin or standing to even get an audience with the viscount." Gamlen shook his head. "You've got to be someone in this city to live in that house again."

She only smiled. "Then I had better get started."

* * *

Hawke was busy counting their sovereigns, but stored when he noticed Carver brooding.

"Thinking of life in Hightown?" he asked walked to where his brother was standing at the fire.

Carver rolled his eyes. "We're still a long way from cowing templars with our titles, Brother."

Hawke sighed. "Is there something you would do differently, Brother?"

"It's not up to me. We're on pace to recover an old name from an old woman," Carver muttered. "And when we're done, I don't know. I guess we'll sit around thinking about how great we used to be?" He shook his head. "Mother didn't even want that life back until we got dumped here. And you only care because we're under templar scrutiny."

Hawke crossed his arms. "Very well, Carver. What your plan?"

"I'd look forward, making something new. Stop paying debts for old men," he then looked at him with resentment. "And if I had to go backwards, I'm not looking for ancient names. I'd fix what's important. What went wrong."

"We can't just go back," said Hawke tiredly.

"We wouldn't need to if you'd done it right. Lothering was our home, not this place. We could have stood our ground. You could have stopped that ogre from killing Bethany."

Hawke then took several steps forward. "You're right."

Carver blinked, apparently he was expecting a different response. "What?"

Hawke then began poking Carver in the chest. "I change all that if I could. But we don't have that option. And you know it." Carver said nothing, except looking slightly ashamed. "All right."

Hawke then turned to walk away.

"Brother." Hawke stopped, but didn't turn around. "I feel… I don't know. It's like Mother, taking everything out on us. She was just scared. I don't' have a place in the life she's trying to bring back. I'm here if you need me, but I must find my own way."

Hawke closed his eyes, and then nodded to his brother before leaving the house.

* * *

Hawke made his way over to the Gallows, he had to be careful when he talked in the mages in fear of the templars getting too nosy. Carver had come with after hearing about a friend of their fathers, but he was still in a foul mood.

He had to ask several of the mages before one could point him in the correct direction. The mage he sought was an older man, with pale eyes. Carver shook his head. "More mages. You talk—I'm going to ask the guards about their training."

Hawke sighed, then approached the old man. The man spoke before he could. "I know your face. I am Tobrius. You and that man are both Hawkes." He smiled. "I remember your father. Malcolm was a good man."

"I found a letter you sent. About a friend of his you could not name."

Tobrius nodded. "Ah, the Templar. Your father could not write directly, lest the Order found out."

"The templar?" His father had been friends with a templar?

"He allowed your father to leave Kirkwall. 'Rule is not served by caging the best of us.' A wise man."

"Not what I would expect from a templar."

"There was a time when the rules of the Order could be… interpreted to suit a situation. Unlike these days. I will send the letters I held. It seems fitting that they return to family."

A few minutes later, Tobrius returned with several papers.

Tobrius handed him a stack of letters. "Such a friendship. Few like your father remain. Even fewer like the templar. Rest well at the Maker's side, Ser Maurevar Carver."

* * *

At the house, and he used the term loosely, Hawke read through the letters. Then he went looking for his brother. "Here, I got you something."

Carver gave him a suspicious look. "Why?"

Hawke sighed. "We ended on a tense note last time. Taken as you will."

Carver began to glance over the letters. "These are by Father? Are you sure they aren't meant for you? I bet another mage could get more out of them."

He snatched the letters out of his brother's hand, put the one he deemed most interesting on top, then handed the entire pile back. His finger tapped the relevant passage. Carver glance at it, then began to read aloud. "For your service that cannot be admitted, I ask that you accept this trinket, and know that I shall respect your name. Thank you, conscience of the order, Ser Maurevar…" Carver was silent for a moment. "Carver." He looked up at Hawke. "Carver?"

"The templar who allowed Father to leave Kirkwall. Your namesake." He walked over to gaze into the fireplace.

"A templar?" Carver walked over to stand next to him. "Have we met a templar who isn't a colossal prig?"

Hawke looked into the flames of the fire. "Father must have felt he was worth honouring."

Carver looked at the letters again. "A man who let him look ahead, and name that would always mean 'skilled thoughtfully applied.'"

"Seems like he thought it held some promise."

"Not a link back, but how to go forward. That's what I was to him." Carver then looked at him uneasily. "I… don't know what to say. Except… thank you."

* * *

Soon Gamlen returned, looking quite miserable and the moment he walked over to him he glared at him. "So, what? Are you here to gloat?" He gestured. "Gamlen's the idiot again. Gamlen's the fool who can't hold his money when it's given in a blood silver basket." He shook his head. "I tried, you know? When Leandra left? But no one was ever going to live up to her."

"What was she like?" Hawke asked leaning against the wall. "As a girl?"

"We're only a year apart. But that was time enough for Leandra to get our parents wrapped firmly around her little finger. They showed her off at every opportunity—the beauty, the scholar, the light of their lives. As far as they were concerned, they should have stopped there."

"I've seen the nobles in this town," Hawke frowned. "Your parents must have had a fortune. Where did it all go?"

Gamlen looked at him uneasily. "Well, it's not like I stood at the side of the wharf and hurled it over. I tried to invest it. Got some good tips on trading Qunari cheeses." He then rubbed the back of his neck looking even more awkward. "And, you know, and a man's got needs. I'm not denying I spend more myself than I should've. But I figured it'd all work out."

He couldn't believe he was hearing all this and shook his head in disbelief. "So the best way to make Daddy love you was to steal his money?"

"I changed their filthy sheets and wiped their chins through two bouts of the cholera and the last word Father said was 'Leandra'. I'm not looking for love. But at least I got the money."

He shook his head and walked over to Leandra, who was staring thoughtfully at the fire. She heard him approach and turned to look at him.

"When I told your grandmother I was marrying your father, she threatened to disown me," she said. "She said my children would be mongrels. My father wanted to lock me in, but she told him, 'It's her life. Let her ruin it.'" Tears rolled down her cheek. "I wrote back to her when each of you were born. She never wrote back. I'm glad she didn't die hating me."

"Grandmother didn't want you to leave," said Hawke placing arm around her. "She tried holding on to the only way she knew."

Leandra pulled him into a hug. "She would have been proud of you. You're everything she wanted in an Amell grandchild. She might have had a hard time accepting it at first, but she would have loved you. All three of you." He could feel the tears hitting his shirt. "Oh Bethany… She was such a sweet little girl. Never cried… just looked at you with those big eyes."

Hawke hugged her more tightly. "She was so young to be taken from us."

"I just keep thinking there's something we could have done. It's killing me. I-I remember that awful creature reaching down and—" She cried even harder. "Eighteen years of loving and feeding and raising and… that was it."

Hawke pulled her back and looked into her eyes. "Blame the darkspawn, not yourself."

Leandra shook her head. "The darkspawn would have been happy with any prey. It was my fault it was Bethany. I-I miss her."

She then pressed her head into his shoulder and cried even harder. "There were four of us when the Blight began. It will never be over well there are just three."

She then pulled away from and wiped away her tears. "I've written to the viscount. I've an audience for after Bartrand's expedition leaves. I couldn't do anything for Bethany, but with luck, I can at least give us a home."

* * *

"I'd heard about the massacre of the slavers at the Amell estate, but…" Cassandra shook her head.

"Indeed, I never linked the massacre to the Champion, but we can't fault him. It was after all technically his home and it was only after his grandfathers will," Leliana pointed out.

"True enough."

"When we first went looking for the Champion, one of my scouts suggested we track down Carver instead, then either question him or hold him until the Champion came looking for his brother." She shrugged. "Theron pointed out the obvious flaws in that idea, starting with 'good luck tracking a warden that doesn't want to be found' and ending with 'if you have an uncontrollable urge to end up a greasy, charred smear on the ground I can find you a dragon'."

"Do we know where Carver is now?"

"When he left Serault, he claimed to be going back to the Free Marches. I…" She shook her head. "Anyone who would tell me is…"

Cassandra put an arm around the other woman. "I'm sorry."

She nodded. "Let us see what else the dwarf has to say."


	7. Tevinter Fugitive

While Hawke no longer worked for the Red Iron, Meeran would occasionally send letters regarding potential source of employment. One of them was for a dwarf named Anso.

It wasn't hard to find the dwarf, in fact he can stick down when he kept on looking around nervously as if he was expecting trouble.

"Are you Anso?" Hawke asked.

The dwarf nearly jumped about ten feet in the air. "Sweet mother of partha! You can't just run up on someone like that!" He looked them over, his eyes going from Hawke, to Carver, to Varric and finally to Anders. "Are you… the one that mercenary told me about? The one looking for work?"

"I used to work for the Red Iron, if that's what you mean."

"Yes it is! What I mean, that is." Anso sighed. "My apologies, human. I haven't been on the surface very long. I keep thinking I'll fall up into that sky any minute."

Varric chuckled. "Bartrand used to be like that. Got jumpy every time he stepped outside."

"I'd pay to see that," Carver said.

Anso shook his head. "But I digress. I need some help. Rather badly, in fact. Some product of mine has been… misplaced. The men who were supposed to deliver it decided not to. If you retrieve my property, I could reward you handsomely…?"

"Just what did these men steal?" Hawke asked.

"Did I say steal? I don't know if I would go that far. They seemed like perfectly reasonable smugglers. They smiled and everything. The goods are valuable, however. And illegal. Any my client wants them very, very badly. You know how these templars can be."

Smugglers. Templars. Maybe it was a good thing Aveline had been too busy to join them. "You're smuggling lyrium to the templars?"

Behind him, Carver made a frustrated noise. "Of course he is. That's just bloody great."

"Shh… By the Paragons, not so loudly!" Anso panicked. "My word. I'm not cut out for this. I should have taken that job sweeping stables like Mother insisted."

"I'll get it back for you," Hawke assured.

"Must we?" Carver grumbled.

"Oh, thank goodness!" said Anso with relief. "The gentlemen conduct their business at night in a little hovel within the alienage. If you have to kill them, then I guess it can't be avoided. But I'm sure they'll be reasonable."

* * *

They found the hovel, dispatched the bandits, and found the chest. Naturally, it was empty. Varric kicked it. "Waste of bloody time. Who put us up to this?"

Hawke ran a hand over his staff. "I guess we have no choice but to go back to Anso and tell him." He had a bad feeling about this.

As it turned out his feeling was correct, the moment they stepped out of the hovel they found themselves surrounded. He was expecting bandits or even Templars, but the soldiers looked… Tevinter.

"That's not the elf! Who is that?"

"It doesn't matter. We were told to kill whoever enters the house."

The men began drawing their weapons. Hawke rolled his eyes, lifted a hand, and called down a firestorm and Anders created a powerful blizzard as Carver and Varric drew their weapons.

Someone threw a spell at his brother. Hawke turned to see another mage. He sent a blast of ice into the mage's face. The other mage staggered, and Hawke hit him with another spell before simply striding forward and bashing him in the head with the spiked end of the staff.

"I think that's all of them," Carver said.

* * *

Another Tevinter soldier entered the alienage just as they were leaving. "I don't know who you are, friend, but you've made a serious mistake coming here." He called over his shoulder. "Lieutenant! I want everyone in the clearing. Now."

A single man stumbled in at the command, bleeding heavily. "Captain…" he said before tumbling to the ground.

An elf in spiky black armour stepped over the corpse. "Your men are dead," he said as he walked down the stairs. "And your trap has failed. I suggest running back to your master while you can."

"You're going nowhere, slave." The captain tried to grab the elf by the shoulder.

Suddenly a strange light erupted out of the elf, and then he simply reached into the captain's chest and… well, the sound the captain made was fairly horrifying. A moment later, the captain's corpse hit the ground. "I am not a slave." The elf turned back towards them.

Hawke had a pretty good idea that this whole job had been nothing more than a simple distraction.

The elf glanced around at the scattered bodies. "I apologise. When I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters, I had no idea they'd be so… numerous."

That confirmed Hawke suspicions. "You were responsible for this?"

"I'm the reason you are here, yes." He met Hawke's eyes. "My name is Fenris. These men were Imperial bounty hunters seeking to recover a magister's lost property, namely myself." He gestured. "They were trying to lure me into the open. Crude as their methods were, I could not face them alone." He gave Hawke a respectful nod. "Thankfully, Anso chose wisely."

Hawke glanced back over at the number of bodies strewn over the clearing. "That seems like a lot of effort to find one slave."

"It is."

"Does this have something to do with those markings?"

"Yes. I imagine I must look strange to you. I did not receive these markings by choice. Even so, they have served me well. Without them, I would still be a slave."

Hawke crossed his arms and raise an eyebrow. "If they were really trying to recapture you, then I'm happy I helped."

Fenris looked at him curiously. "I have met few in my travels who have sought anything more than personal gain." Fenris hesitated a moment. "If I may ask: What was in the chest? The one they kept in the house?"

"It was empty."

Fenris looked disappointed. "I suppose it was too much to hope for. Even so, I had to know."

"You were expecting something else?"

"I was, but I shouldn't have. It was bait, nothing more."

"You didn't need to lie to get my help."

"That remains to be seen," he said dryly. He then began to look through the captain's clothing and found a piece of parchment. "It as I thought. "My former master accompanied them to the city." He met Hawke's eyes again. "I know you have questions, but I must confront him before he flees. I will need your help."

Behind him, he was sure Carver was shaking his head. However, he couldn't let slavers wonder around the city taking innocent people. "If it means fighting more slavers, I'll help you."

"I will find a way to repay you. I swear it. The magister is staying at a mansion in Hightown. Meet me there as soon as you can. We must enter before morning." Fenris turned and left the alienage.

* * *

"Why do I get the feeling the only coin we are going to see for this job is the money we stripped off the corpses?" Carver asked.

"Don't be silly. We'll also get coin by selling off their gear."

Varric chuckled. "See, Junior. You've got to look on the bright side."

"Bright side? We are heading into Hightown to fight a magister because a former elven slave said so."

"Do you truly want a Tevinter magister wondering around Kirkwall?" Anders asked. "It will certainly get the templars attention and no doubt there will execute any mage who they think is a blood mage."

"He's got a point," said Hawke.

Carver was about to reply when a group of thugs stepped out of the shadows and started demanding they hand over their gold. Hawke sighed, and then glanced at his brother. "Listen, I know you don't like this, but we need the gold."

Carver grumbled. "Fine."

* * *

Fenris was waiting for them. "No one has left the mansion, but I've heard nothing within." He looked up at the windows. "Danarius may know we're here. I wouldn't put it past him."

Hawke looked at the mansion grimly. "He may have prepared some magical defences."

"They will not keep me from him."

The moment they entered, Fenris began calling out Danarius's name when they entered the mansion. They hadn't gone far when shades manifested. When they charged at them Hawke sent out a wave of ice, freezing several of the shades in their tracks. His brother immediately followed up with his greatsword, shattering two before the spell faded. Fenris looked startled by the spell, but quickly proved well able to handle his own greatsword. Anders blasted a whole lot of them with a fireball.

"He sends spirits to do his fighting for him." Fenris shook his head. "Danarius! Can you hear me? Your pets cannot stop us."

Hawke had a suspicion that the magister was nowhere in the mansion. They kept on looking but only found several more groups of shades, a couple rage demons, and an arcane horror. There was no sign of the man.

"Gone. I had hoped…" Fenris looked dejected. "No, it doesn't matter any longer. I assume Danarius left valuables behind. Take them if you wish. I… need some air." He pushed past, and left the house.

Carver and Varric immediately began grabbing valuables while Anders studied the remains of the demons. Hawke stood there a moment, and then followed the elf. He found him leaning on a pillar at the front of the mansion.

"It never ends," he said when he noticed Hawke. "I escaped a land of dark magic only to have it hunt me at every turn. It is a plague burned into my flesh and my soul. And now I find myself in the company of yet another mage." He turned to face him. "I saw you casting spells inside. I should have realised sooner what you really were." He looked Hawke over. "Tell me, then: What manner of mage are you? What is it that you seek?"

Hawke crossed his arms. "I don't know. What do you think I seek?"

"You are skilled—I know that much."

He heard Carver behind him. "If you have a problem with my brother, you have a problem with me."

Fenris sighed. "I imagine I appear ungrateful. If so, I apologise, for nothing could be further from the truth. I did not find Danarius, but I still owe you a debt. Here is all the coin I have, as Anso promised." He handed Hawke what looked to be six silvers and four coppers. "Should you find yourself in need of assistance, I would gladly render it."

Hawke looked down at the coin, and then offered it back to Fenris. "You didn't seem all that thrilled with me a moment ago."

Fenris blinked, and then accepted the coin. "You are not Danarius. Whether you are anything like him remains to be seen."

There was clearly more to this. Granted, he wasn't an expert on the slave trade, but the sheer amount of men this Danarius fellow had just lost would certainly put a crimp in most styles. "Your old master must want something more than just a runaway slave."

"He doesn't want me at all, just the markings on my skin." He held up an arm, showing the white tattoos. "They are lyrium, burned into my flesh to provide the power that Danarius required of his pet. And now he wishes his precious investment returned, even if he must rip it from my corpse."

"Perhaps you can find a way to pay him back?"

"I will pay him back—in blood," he said clenching his fists. "You have no idea what he's done to me, what I went through just to get away."

"I was only trying to help you," said Hawke calmly holding up his hands.

"I… I'm sorry. That was unworthy of me," said Fenris apologetically. He then looked at him with a firm expression. "The truth is I know nothing of the ritual that placed these markings on me. It was Danarius's choice, one he now regrets."

Hawke nodded. "I'm planning an expedition I might need help with."

"Fair enough." Fenris gestured at the mansion. "Should you have need of me, I will be here. If Danarius wishes his mansion back, he is free to return and claim it." He gave a small bow. "Beyond that, I am at your disposal."

* * *

"Fenris, isn't he hunting down and killing slavers that prey on refugees?" Cassandra asked.

Leliana nodded. "Yes, I can send agents in order to find him, but he seems to be able to avoid them."

"I can understand his hatred of mages, and I'm surprised he allied himself with the Champion."

"Perhaps he felt like he owed him or maybe the Champion proves that not all mages fall to corruption."

"I suppose will only know once we hear more."


	8. Fools Rush In

Hawke entered Anders clinic, who smiled and gestured for him to take a seat. "I had a friend like you once. Got in all kinds of trouble, dragged me along. Didn't think I'd be doing that again." He sat down across from Hawke. "I got a bit weighty the last time we talked. Sorry for putting that on you."

Hawke just smiled reassuringly. "You can tell me anything."

"Anything? Be careful what you offer?" Anders's gave him a tentative smile, and then sighed. "I just… hope I didn't seem too selfish when I told you about Justice." He shifted slightly. "I didn't know what would happen. I figured a willing host, a friend… it had to be better than playing the demon and haunting some corpse."

For a moment, Hawke just shook his head. Anders had been a Circle Mage once, surely he would have realised the dangers of being a host to a spirit, even a benevolent spirit. "Spirits aren't meant to inhabit human bodies. That's what demons do."

Anders started to look annoyed. "The templars have everything! For a thousand years, they've had the knights, the lyrium, the bloody Maker on their side." He then looked at him resentfully. "You're lucky they never found you. Most of us, they hunt us down before we've even learned our letters. They tell your parents they'll be thrown in prison if they ask about you, stripped of their rights in the eye of the Maker. And if you run away, they hunt you down. Again and again and again." Blue light started to shine out of Anders' eyes.

Hawke remained silent, giving the other man the time he needed. He thought back to Wesley again. A templar… and yet he'd given Bethany the respect she was due. Maurever Carver… the templar that helped his father escape. He feared the templars still, but he was no longer sure he hated them. They were men, like any others. Like mages. "You're speaking from personal experience?"

The light from Anders' eyes faded away. "Andrate's words were that magic must not rule over man. It is not ruling to simply wish the same rights as any man. Doesn't every mage deserve the freedom you've had?" He then looked away bitterly. "Growing up in the Circle, everything is about order and rules and the templars. The apprentices… we find ways to make that bearable. Karl and I… he was the first. We could forget that out in the world we were nothing but templar slaves." He shook his head. "We hadn't been together for a long time. But still… it hurt."

He decided best thing to do was change the subject. "How did you become a Warden?"

"I'd been captured again, by the templars. They stopped in Vigil's Keep. That was the night the darkspawn attacked. The newly appointed Commander asked for my help, and I gave it. And when the templars tried to reclaim me, he conscripted me to keep me from them."

"And then he took your cat?"

Anders shook his head. "He gave me the cat. Wardens out of Weisshaupt took over and…" He sighed. "I left a mess for him. There were… templars there, when we left. A couple former templars turned Warden… I think I killed them." He shook his head. "He believed that mages should be free, but he told Justice once that wouldn't happen unless the mages themselves choose to stand." He stood. "We have much to do before the Deep Roads." A smile came to his face, almost reaching his eyes. "Next time, I'll try to keep to more… pleasant… topics."

* * *

"You owe us, Isabela."

Hawke and Carver had just entered the Hanged Man when they saw a bunch of men harassing a dark skinned woman. The woman in question, was showing quite a lot of the body and didn't look ashamed of it.

"Well, Lucky, I'll tell you what…" She casually poured another drink. "Since the information you gave me was worth nothing…" She tossed the glass back. "That's what I'll pay you."

"Me and my boys will get our money's worth, bitch."

Hawke and Carver exchanged a look, and then started to walk over. They needn't have bothered. The woman gave the men accosting her a flirtatious look. "Oh, you poor, sweet thing."

And then she grabbed Lucky and slammed his head on the table. One of his men grabbed her and lifted her off her feet while another man grabbed a bottle. She however head-butted the man on the nose, freeing herself, and ducked just in time as the man smashed the bottle against him moments later.

She then punched the first man on the face twice, followed by a knee in the chest and slammed an elbow down upon his back knocking him to the floor. Lucky had recovered and grabbed her sword, which was a mistake, because he found her knife levelled at his throat. "Tell me, Lucky, is this worth dying for." The man fled, and she chuckled as she went back to the bar finish her drink as if nothing had happened. "I didn't think so."

"What do you know dinner and entertainment," said Carver looking at his brother.

"At least things aren't boring here," Hawke admitted.

Apparently the woman heard them talking, because she gave Hawke an appreciative look. "My, and here I thought the only men in this place were besotted fools who couldn't hoist the mainsail."

Hawke crossed his arms. "You mean like the men you sent scrambling from the tavern?"

"Exactly like them. Worthless twits." She then gave a mocking bow. "I'm Isabela. Previously 'Captain' Isabela. Sadly, without my ship, the title rings a bit hollow." She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're Fereldan, aren't you? You have that look about you. I was in Denerim not long ago. Even got to… know… one of the Wardens that ended the Blight, if you know what I mean." She smiled fondly at the memory. "You know, you might be just what I'm looking for to solve a little problem I have."

Hawke shook his head. "Can't anyone fix their own lives around here?"

"Must be something in the water." She shrugged. "Someone from my past has been pestering me. I've arranged for a duel—if I win, he leaves me alone. But I don't trust him to play fair. I need someone to watch my back."

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Carver was staring at her, or more precisely at her cleavage which was a lot. He just smiled. "Who's this person you've arranged to meet?"

"His name is Hayder. We worked together back in Antiva. He's never liked me. He's been asking about me all around Kirkwall. Thought I'd get it over with and meet him face-to-face."

He had a feeling that there was more going on than she was letting on. "What makes you think I'm right for this?"

She set her cup back on the bar and gave a frustrated sigh. "You saw me talking to Lucky, didn't you? Those boys couldn't manage simple information-gathering." She gave him a slow once-over. "I can't trust the riffraff in this place to do anything right. But you… you're different."

Hawke nearly started laughing at the very irritated look on Carver's face. He glanced at Isabela. "I think I could manage watching your back."

She chuckled. "I'll bet." She finished her drink. "I've arranged to meet Hayder in Hightown tomorrow after dark. I'll meet you there." She trailed a hand over his arm as she left.

Carver watched her go, his head tilted to one side. "That woman is not wearing any pants."

Hawke looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow. "And you know how?"

Carver's face turned pink instantly. "I—I just noticed."

"How observant?" Hawke smirked.

"Shut up," Carver snapped.

* * *

Hawke, Carver Varric and Anders met up with Isabela outside the Keep. The moment they will live she looked at them with relief.

"There you are. I've been here for hours." She then began to pace up and down nervously. "Hayder hasn't shown up. No one has. I don't like this."

"'I don't like this?''" said Varric. "That's up there with, 'What could possibly go wrong?'"

Suddenly of armoured women appeared with several thugs and she glared at Isabela.

"That's the wench we're looking for. Gut her!"

Naturally it didn't take them long to take down these thugs and there was one thing that Isabela told the truth about, Hayder was a cheat.

"Hayder sent them. Search the bodies. I need to find out where he went," said Isabela.

They search for the bodies, taking a few coins, and found a letter to from Hayder that told them that he was in the Chantry. He entered the letter to Isabela and she narrowed her eyes.

"Hiding in the Chantry and selling folks to finish me off? Coward." She then looked at Hawke. "He'll not get away with this. Come on."

* * *

They wandered into the Chantry and met a handsome Antiva, who had to be Hayder, and behind him were several more Antivans.

"Isabela. Should've known you'd find me here," said Hayder.

"Tell your men to burn the letters next time," Isabela advised.

"Castillon was heartbroken when he heard about the shipwreck. You should've let him know you survived."

Isabela shrugged. "It must have slipped my mind."

Hayder chuckled. "Where's the relic?"

"I lost it. Castillon's just going to have to do without."

Hayder glared at her. "Lost it? Just like you _lost_ a ship for valuable cargo?"

"They weren't cargo, Hayder, they were people!" Isabela snapped.

"Those slaves were worth a hundred sovereigns a head, and you let them scurry off into the wilds. And now the relic's gone too, Castillon won't be happy to hear that, I promise you."

Relic? Slaves? What was going on?

"Will someone explain what's going on?" Hawke asked.

"Isabela's has been a bad girl," Hayder said as if he was a schoolboy. "Ruined a perfectly business deal, and then ran away. She didn't tell you?"

"I told him enough!" said Isabela.

"Really? Because it doesn't seem like it," said Carver.

"I said I arranged a duel, which I did. I also said you wouldn't play fair, which you didn't." She then looked at Hawke. "We can talk late if you want. Right now we have other problems."

Hawke nodded and looked at Hayder, hoping this problem could be solved without bloodshed, he didn't want to spill more blood in the Chantry. "You don't have to tell Castillon about Isabela."

"If I cross him, he'll have me killed. And my life is worth more than hers."

Isabel looked at Hawke. "There's only one way to settle this."

Isabela then pulled out a dagger and tossed it right at one of Hayder's thugs, killing her straight away. She then pulled out her two other daggers, Hawke didn't want to know where she kept them, and charged at Hayder.

Carver charged and engaged the nearest thug, who held a pair of twin swords, but you're the clear advantage with his greatsword. Varric fired Bianca taking out the archers the furthest away and Hawke and Anders use their magic to deal the archers close by.

They magic you the respected thugs and turned to find Isabela had just disarmed Hayder and then slid his float.

Hawke made his way over to her and frowned. "I was trying to talk him down."

"Trust me. It's better this way," said Isabela dismissively. "Castillion won't hear about me from Hayder, but he'll find me eventually." Isabela shrugged. "I just have to get him the relic. It's simple as that."

"What's so interesting about the relic?" Hawke asked.

"I don't really know what it is, except that it's ancient and worth my weight in gold." She shook her head. "Castillion has me chasing it down as payback for freeing his slaves." She sighed. "To be honest, I think he just wants me dead. But that would be letting me off easy."

"What's this about you freeing slaves?"

"I was asked to escort Castillion's cargo ship. I got a bad feeling about the job partway through. Boarded the ship to find slaves." She closed her eyes as if reliving a terrible memory. "Nearly two hundred—elves, humans… children even. It was sickening. They paid Castillion to take them away from the Blight. He took their money and sold them into slavery. Even I can see that wrong."

Hawke nodded. "If getting the relic gets Castillion off your back, then I'll help you retrieve it."

Her smile was brilliant. "I still don't know where it is, but you'll be the first to know if I hear anything." She picked up a knife from one of the corpses, cleaned it, and added it to her boot. "Anyway, thanks for helping me out with Hayder." She gave him another slow look. "I think I'll tag along for a while. There might be something I could do for you." She brushed against him as she walked to the door. "And I have a room at the Hanged Man, if you're looking for… company later."

After she'd left, Carver looked at Isabela with his tongue hanging out and looked as if he forgotten how to speak.

"Your tongue hanging out?" Hawke pointed out.

"No it's not," said Carver and quickly closed his mouth.

* * *

"Varric, no."

"You're the captain, or you will be. It'll be easy."

"I'm not petitioning the viscount to help you steal ownership of the Hanged Man."

"Steal? Madam, you wound me."

"I'm about to." She gestured for Varric to get out. The dwarf winked at him when he passed.

Aveline might not have caught the gesture, but she did narrow her eyes at him suspiciously. He originally came to inform her of a crime and to give her information about the culprits. "Big changes are coming, huh? Captain of the guard." She sat on the edge of her desk. "Thank you, Wesley."

"That you keep his memory speaks well of him," said Hawke smoothly.

"He's not with me. I know that. Wesley's at the Maker's side, or he's not. Either way, he knows no pain." She met his eyes. "What I keep is that moment. I won't let anyone down like that again."

He still saw Bethany every time he closed his eyes. "I don't see how you can take the blame for the darkspawn horde."

"I put him to the sword myself, Hawke."

"At his behest," he reminded.

"I know in my head that it was right. So did Wesley. But in my heart, that cut was cruel."

"You clearly miss Wesley, but that's not the issue?"

"Or course I miss him, but he's not coming back. Pining like a child serves no one. So I remember him, but I let him rest."

As he let Bethany rest. Sometimes. "You're not so kind to yourself, though."

"No."

He sat down on the desk next to her. "I can't imagine the captain of the guard will like wandering my shadow.

She shrugged. "It's not like this job means we're on opposite sides. The good you do, it seems rather appropriate. Besides, I'll be making the patrol schedule, and I don't intend to lead from desk."

"I look forward to working with you, Guard-Captain Aveline."

"Still strange, isn't it?" She smiled. "Captain of the guard. Thank you for helping me get here, Hawke. It's where I should be."

He smiled at her, got up and then started to walk away. Then he remembered why he came. "I just remember the reason why we came in the first place," he said pointing out a piece of parchment. "I found this on a bandit I killed."

"Well now, that is interesting. The location of their base." She grinned. "Shall we call on them tonight?"

He put a hand over his heart. "I thought you'd never ask you never ask Guard-Captain."

* * *

"So he teamed up with a Raider, his choice of companions is hardly appropriate and does not reflect well on him," said Cassandra.

"I'm more interested in this relic she was looking for," said Leliana curiously. "Besides when I accompanied Theron and the others our companions were hardly any better. We had a swamp witch, an assassin, a golem and a dwarf that spend most of his time drunk."

"Point taken, but still they were Grey Wardens and they were in the middle of a Blight," Cassandra reminded her. "Still, let us hear what he has to say."


	9. Long Way Home

Hawke wandered up into Hightown, he wanted to see how Fenris was faring in the mansion he was squatting at. Fenris let him in. The elf was just slightly tipsy. "Agreggio Pavali. There are six bottles in the cellar. Danarius used to have me pour it for his guests. My appearance intimidated them, he said, which he enjoyed."

Hawke stared at him. "You were his servant as well as his bodyguard?"

Fenris narrowed his eyes. "I was a slave. I propped up the furniture, when he was so inclined." He took another drink, and then flung the bottle at the wall. It shattered, and the remainder of the wine began to drip down. Fenris gave the mess a satisfied look. "It's good I can still take pleasure in the small things."

Hawke nodded. "You've had a difficult life."

"I'd rather not speak more of it."

"Are you certain? I'm willing to listen."

Fenris chuckled. "To my whining? Very charitable of you." Fenris sat himself down in a chair. "I've wanted to leave my past behind me. But it won't stay there. Tell me, have you never wanted to return to Ferelden?"

"I grew up in Ferelden. It will always be my home."

"The Blight is over. You could rebuild what you lost. Do you truly not want to?"

Hawke pondered on the idea. "I have to admit, it's an attractive idea."

"But not now," Fenris nodded. "I understand. Still, to have the option… must be gratifying."

"If you're looking to start a life, you could stay," Hawke offered.

"I could see myself staying—for the right reasons. I should thank you again for helping me against the hunters. Had I known Anso would find me a man so capable, I might have asked him to look sooner."

"It turned out well enough," Hawke shrugged.

"It did at that."

Hawke laughed. "I was planning a trip up to Sundermount tomorrow. Want to come along?"

"I'd like that."

* * *

It was now time for Hawke to make good on his promise from the witch. He had recently got were that a Dalish Clan had shown its presence on Sundermount. Accompanied with his companions they made their way to the mountain peak.

There they were stopped by two Dalish elves, a man and woman, stopped them as they approached the camp. The man held out his hand. "Hold, shemlen! Your kind are not welcome among the Dalish."

"I was given an amulet for someone named Marethari," said Hawke presenting the amulet.

"How do you know that name?"

The Dalish woman then spoke. "Wait! This is the one the Keeper spoke of."

"A shemlen? I thought he'd be an elf."

The Dalish woman stepped back to let him pass. "Enter the camp. Keeper Marethari has been waiting for you."

A glance over his shoulder showed him equal confusion on the faces of Aveline and Carver. So they were expected. Clearly this was no coincidence that he was willing to bet it had something to do with the amulet and the witch.

"Cause trouble, and you'll meet our blades, stranger," the Dalish man warned.

Hawke nodded and they entered into the camp.

* * *

The woman at the fire was older, heavily tattooed, carried a staff, and received many a nervous look from the young elves. "Marethari? I was told to bring you this amulet."

" _Andaran atish'an_ , travellers. Indeed, I am Keeper Marethari. Let me look at you." Her large eyes were piercing, making him feel almost as if she'd put him up on a scale. "There's truth in your face. A rare thing in a human." She gestured at him. "Tell me how this burden fell to you, child."

Another cryptic old woman. "Your guards said you spoke of me. How did you know I was coming?"

"I listened. To the wind. To the birds, as the hunters do. To my dreams. I watched the stars. There is great wisdom to be found all around us, if you know how to listen for it. But I was not certain. Nothing is certain."

"Exactly what have I been carrying around? Is it magic?" he asked.

"It is a promise, child. Made by one whose word still has weight. And therefore it has terrible power. There are few things in this world stronger than a promise kept. Remember that."

"This amulet's owner rescued my family from the Blight. In return, I agreed to bring it to you," Hawke said truthfully.

"I honour you for coming to me, but I'm afraid your pot is not yet done," she said ominously. "The amulet must be taken to an altar at the top of the mountain, and given a Dalish rite for the departed. Then return the amulet to me. Do this, and your debt will be repaid."

"Are you going to teach me this rite for the departed?" he asked.

"I will send my First with you. She will see to it the ritual is done." Marethari hesitated before continuing. "And when it is complete, I must ask that you take her with you when you go."

"Who is your First? First of what?"

"Your people would call her my apprentice or heir. Merrill would have taken my place as Keeper." Marethari shook her head. "But she has chosen a new path. Please, guide her safely from here." She gestured. "You'll find Merrill waiting for you on the trail just up the mountain. _Dareth Shiral_."

* * *

There was a strange humming noise, and a glow. Both vanished when the elf girl noticed them. "Oh! I didn't hear. You must be the one the Keeper told me about. _Aneth ara_." She shuffled her feet nervously. "I'm so sorry, I didn't ask your name. Unless… it's not rude to ask a human their name, is it?" She twisted, looking at the ground before looking back at him. "I'm Merrill. Which you probably knew already. I'm rambling, sorry."

Like all the Dalish she had tattoos on her face and walk around with bare feet. She had black hair that was tied up in a bun and she clearly looked very nervous seeing them. Though, Hawke had to admit that it was pretty cute.

"You seem awfully nervous," Hawke noted.

"You're only the second human I've seen up close. Last time was not a happy memory. A Grey Warden took away one of our hunters to fight the darkspawn. I heard he fought the Archdemon. I wonder what's become of him."

"My name is Garrett Hawke. Glad to make your acquaintance, Merill."

"Thank you. I'm afraid I'm not very experienced with your kind." She shuffled her feet again, and her hands fidgeted. "Have you been in the Free Marches long? Do you like it here?"

"I miss the cold. And the dirt. Kirkwall's not brown enough for me. But hey, no darkspawn!"

She actually looked offended. "Ferelden wasn't that brown! The dirt and muck gave it character." She glanced up the path, then back at him. "We should go. Your task is for _Asha'bellanar_. It's not wise to make her wait."

"Let's get this over with."

* * *

They had made it a few hundred feet when they were attacked by corpses. Anders sent a spell at one group, and Hawke sent a spell at another. Then blinked when a third spell entered the fray. Once the corpses were dealt with, he turned to Merrill. "The Keeper didn't mention you were a mage."

Fenris gave her a distasteful look. "I imagine it's difficult to give away something nobody wants."

She gave them a defensive look. "All Keepers know a bit of old magic." She shrugged. "The stories tell us that all _elvhen_ once had the gift, but like so many things, it was lost. It's a Keeper's job to remember, to restore what we can."

Hawke glanced at his companions and decided the matter could be discussed later. "I'm glad you decided to pitch in back there."

"Oh! You're welcome," she said rather surprised. "I wasn't sure I'd be much good." She smiled. "I've done a little fighting before, but it was with… I'll try not to hit anyone. On our side, I mean. I'm babbling again. Let's go."

* * *

As they made their way up the mountain they had to fight corpses and eventually met up with a scout halfway up.

He narrowed his eyes at Merrill with resentment. "So the Keeper finally found someone to take you from here."

"Yes," said Merrill simply.

He then looked a Hawke. "Then finish your task quickly, human. We cannot be rid of this one too soon."

"The Dalish are one big, happy family," said Carver under his breath.

Merrill looked at the scout. "I have made my choice. And I will save our clan, whatever you think."

Then as you walk back down the mountain he purposely shoved Merrill as he walked past.

Hawke looked at Merrill curiously. "What's going on here, Merrill?"

"Nothing. Just ignorance," she then carried on down the path. "We should go."

However, Hawke could tell there was more going on and clearly Merrill sense this, because at the mouth of the cave she stopped.

"I'm sorry," she said apologetically. "You not really seeing the Dalish at their best." She then turned to face them with an apologetic look. "We're good people that look out for each other. Just not today, apparently."

Hawke shrugged. "But the Dalish are delightful! I was just thinking of inviting the whole clan over for tea."

Merrill looked at him strangely. "I'm sure they'd never accept an—" She stopped when she realised that he was joking. "Oh. Right. Sarcasm." She then regained her composure and looked at them all. "Even if my people don't appreciate my efforts, I must see this through. Let's go. _Asha'bellanar_ isn't known for her patience."

* * *

After cutting through a cave, they reached a magical barrier. Merrill hesitated, then glanced at him. "I can open the way forward. One moment." She strode to the barrier, then took a deep breath. Then she drew her knife, cut open her palm, and sent a spray of blood to dissolve the barrier.

"That was a summoning!" Anders gestured. "That takes blood magic. Are you crazy?"

Fenris shook his head. "Blood magic? Foolish. Very foolish."

Merrill gave them a defensive look. "Yes, it was blood magic, but I know what I'm doing. The spirit helped us, didn't it?"

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "Call it what it is. You summoned a demon."

She shook her head. "Demons are just spirits. Like honor or joy. It's not their fault they are what they are."

"You know nothing of spirits." Anders clenched his fists. "Don't try to spread your ignorance."

"'Ignore the tiger. Not its fault that it's going to eat you'. Sound advice," said Fenris shaking his head.

That was probably the first time those two actually agreed on something.

Merrill turned and began walking. "Be careful up ahead. Restless things prowl the heights." She gestured. "In the days of Arlathan, the elders came here to sleep. Uthenera. The endless dream, they called it. But they don't sleep peacefully anymore."

Hawke didn't like the idea of wandering into a graveyard, especially since they had been attacked by corpses, but he wanted his debt to the witch to be over and done with.

* * *

They finally managed to reach the altar and at once Merrill stepped forward and began to speak in elven. " _Harhren na melana sahlin. Emma ir abelas souver'inan isala hamin vhenan him dor'felas. In uthenera na revas._ "

Suddenly the altar glowed with a spiral of golden light. And Flemeth got to her feet, stepping off it casually.

"Aaah, and here we are."

"A witch!" Fenris's hand started to go for his sword.

Hawke held up a hand to stop him. Aveline did so as well. "Calm yourself," she said. "We know this one."

Merrill bowed. " _Andaran atish'an, Asha'bellanar_."

Flemeth gave Merrill a considering look. "One of the people, I see, so young and bright. Do you know who I am, beyond that title?"

"I know only a little."

"Then stand. The people bend their knee too quickly." Flemeth turned, and took a step towards Hawke. "So refreshing to see someone who keeps their end of a bargain. I half expected my amulet to end up in a merchant's pocket."

Hawke narrowed his eyes much to Merrill's horror. "I agreed to deliver the amulet, though you could have told me you are inside it."

"Just a piece." Flemeth smiled. "A small piece, but it was all I needed. A bit of security, should the inevitable occur. And if I know my Morrigan, it already has."

Hawke blinked. "Is that someone I should know?"

"She's a girl who thinks she knows what is what better than I, or anyone." Flemeth laughed. "And why not? I raised her to be as she is. I cannot expect her to be less."

"I'm not sure whether she's your daughter or your enemy." Hawke shook his head.

Flemeth smiled. "Neither is she."

"You are no simple witch," Fenris said.

She folded her arms and gave him an amused look. "Figured that out yourself, did you?"

"I have seen powerful mages, spirits, and abominations. But you are none of those things. What are you?"

"Such a curious lad. The chains are broken, but are you truly free?"

"You see a great deal," Fenris noted looking disturbed.

"What are you?" said Anders repeating Fenris' question. "A spirit? An abomination? This is no magic I've ever seen."

This concerned Hawke greatly. An abomination didn't know what Flemeth was.

"And you would know of spirits and abominations."

"I'm a mage. Of course I know of such things." Anders lifted his chin.

Her yellow eyes watched him for a moment as she tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Of course." She spread her hands. "I am a fly in the ointment. I am a whisper in the shadows. I am also an old, old woman. More than that you need not know."

"Why did you need me to bring you here?" Hawke asked.

"Because I had an appointment to keep." She waved a hand. "And because I did not want to be followed. You smuggled me here quite nicely."

He shook his head. "I don't understand. Are you some kind of vision?"

She merely laughed. "Must I be in only one place? Bodies are such limiting things." She examined her gauntleted hand. "I am but a fragment cast adrift from the whole. A bit of flotsam to cling to in the storm."

"A fragment?"

"You do not need to understand, child." She stepped closer to him. "Know only that you may have saved my life, just as I once saved yours. An even trade, I think."

"You have plans, I take it?" This woman seem to know that her death was coming and made sure to prepare for it, he wouldn't put it past her to have some sort of plan in the works.

"Destiny awaits us both, dear boy. We have much to do." She smiled. It wasn't a comforting smile. "But before I go, a word of advice?" She turned, and gestured at the view. Half a world seemed spread out before them. From here, Kirkwall seemed small. "We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment… and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap." She turned back to face him. "It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."

"Cheap advice," he said. "From a dragon."

"We all have our challenges."

Carver shook his head. "Are we going to regret bringing her here?" he asked. Hawke had a feeling that someone certainly was, whether it was them remain to be seen.

"Regret is something I know well." Flemeth turned her eyes to his brother. "Take care not to cling to it, to hold it so close that it poisons your soul. When the time comes for your regrets, remember me." Well, that was nicely ominous. She turned to look at Merrill. "As for you, child, step carefully. No path is darker than when your eyes are shut."

" _Ma serannas, Asha'bellanar_."

"Now the time has come for me to leave. You have my thanks…" She nodded to him. "And my sympathy." A moment later, she'd taken the form of a dragon and was winging her way east.

* * *

They walked down the mountain and as they walked Merrill looked at Hawke.

"We'll take me now? To the city, I mean. That was the bargain, wasn't it?" she asked.

Hawke gave her a concerned look. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I… yes. Yes, I've made up my mind." She closed her eyes. "There's no going back to the Keeper now, anyway."

Hawke sighed. "Follow me."

She smiled. " _Ma serannas_. Thank you."

* * *

Once they reach the foot of the mountain he gave the amulet back to Marethari. " _Ma serannas_ , child. Your debt is paid in full." She then turned and looked at Merrill. "It's not too late to change your mind, _da'len_."

" _Dareth shiral_ , Keeper," said Merrill. She then turned to Hawke and the others. "I'm ready. Let's depart."

Before leaving he gave Marethari a look saying that he will protect her and she nodded, informing him that she understood.

* * *

They soon returned to Kirkwall and they showed Merrill the alienage.

" _Elgar'nan_. Is this… is this really where the elves live?"

Anders tried to smile at her. "If you think this is bad, you should see where I live"

"I didn't think it would be so… so…" She folded her arms and seemed to shrink. "I've never seen so many people in one place before. It seems so lonely."

"You already know me. You'll make other friends soon enough," Hawke assured.

"I… thank you." She smiled, and then turned towards him. "Thank you for everything. For all your help." She gave him a hopeful look. "Will you come visit me? Not now, of course. But maybe later? I could use a friend."

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll like that, Merrill."

"Thank you. I'm thanking you too much, aren't I? I mean it, though."

* * *

Varric looked up and saw Hawke and Carver entering for their game of Wicked Grace, Isabela and Fenris followed soon after.

"So, I've been dying to know: what was going through your head when you fought that ogre?" Varric asked.

"For the first few seconds: 'what do they feed those things?'" Hawke spread his hands to indicate the size of the thing.

"I don't know anyone else that's even seen one. You're lucky to just be standing here." He pushed a cup over. "Somehow, Hawke, I imagine things won't be dull with you around." He took a drink from his own cup. "Not that I expect the Deep Roads to be boring, mind you. Constant threat of doom does tend to keep you awake."

Varric waited until Hawke had taken his seat at the table. Carver he'd expected. That the spiky elf and Hawke seemed to be getting along well was certainly surprising.

After examining his hand, Hawke tossed in two coppers. "Anything in particular I should know about your brother?"

Fenris folded. Carver and Varric called. Varric shrugged at the question. "To understand Bartrand, you've got to understand the Dwarven Merchants Guild. These are dwarves who would sell their mothers if they thought it'd get them a better share of the lyrium market. Anyone who deals with them has to sleep with a knife under their pillow. In my family, that's Bartrand." Varric collected his winnings, and then handed the deck to Hawke.

Hawke dealt. "If we'll be working together, I should find out more about you."

"True enough. I suppose you ought to know my credentials." Varric looked at his hand. He'd been waiting for the questions. Frankly, he was surprised at how long it had taken. No doubt Varric was trying to get a good feel of him while he did the same to him. "My family came from Orzammar - noble House Tethras—until my father got caught fixing Provings." He threw in a raise. "He and our whole House got exiled. No huge loss. I was born up here. Sunshine suits me just fine."

"Are you a merchant? A mercenary?" Hawke called.

"I'm a younger son. It's a difficult and dangerous profession. A lot of us die of boredom." He saw Carver chuckle. Good. Junior was far too serious. And being a younger brother really wasn't all that bad. "Fortunately, being Bartrand's younger brother keeps me on my toes. Maker knows he lacks subtlety. I'm the one who pulls strings to keep the Coterie out of our hair—keep us just a whisker ahead of the other families."

"What are your plans for this trip into the Deep Roads?" Hawke apparently hadn't been bluffing after all.

"Bartrand's running the show. Andraste's ass, he'd probably do that even if we weren't paying for everything. The thaig we're looking for is supposed to be a week's travel from the surface. So I hope you aren't scared of the dark. We've got supplies, muscle, excavators… the plan is to carry out everything that's not nailed down."

They continued to play. Fenris lost steadily, but was starting to get the hang of the game. Isabel was the one he was more worried about, since she cheated flawlessly. Hawke shrugged.

"A lot of things can keep you awake, you know. I wouldn't reach were doom first," said Hawke leaning back in his chair.

"Sure, I could have a cup of tea in the morning, but I hear it's bad for you," Varric smirked. "I've spent my whole life in Kirkwall. Dangerous enough most days, but it doesn't compare to the Deep Roads." Isabela then showed her hand in the all groaned as she took their coin. "So, this will be... let's just call it 'an adventure,' I guess."

"Great, now we're adventurers…"

* * *

"Marethari… the name sounds familiar." Cassandra frowned.

"Sabrae clan," Leliana said. When Cassandra raised an eyebrow, Leliana continued. "Theron's clan. Marethari is the one that sent him with Duncan to become a Grey Warden." She sighed.

"His Keeper… and Flemeth."

"And Flemeth met them in the wild, rescued them from the tower, and sent them on their way. With Morrigan."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "Lothering is where they met you? So they arrived there very shortly after their encounter with Flemeth."

"And Lothering was destroyed only a few days after we left." Leliana counted the days. "Flemeth met Hawke less than two weeks after rescuing the Wardens." She made a vexed noise. "What did she fear would inevitably occur? Clearly, it had to do with Morrigan."

"You truly have no idea?"

Leliana sighed. "Morrigan was a prickly woman. It was rare for her to speak pleasantly to anyone but Daylen. She certainly never confided in me. However, there was a time when Daylen left us, he wouldn't say where he was going, but when he returned he was exhausted and his robes were scorched like he'd been fighting a dragon."

"Are you saying he slew Flemeth."

"That's what Theron believed and his hunches are usually correct."

"Let us see what else the dwarf can tell us."


	10. Blackpowder Promise

He waited two days before heading into the Alienage. Merrill practically ran to greet him. "I didn't think you'd come!" She looked around the small house. It was actually fairly nice by alienage standards. "I'll find something relatively clean for you to sit on." She led him to a chair. "Can I get you something to eat or drink? I have… water."

Hawke looked at her amused. "I came here to see you, Merrill. You don't have to fuss over me."

Merrill smiled as she sat down. "You're so kind. My first guest, and I'm already a terrible host." She fidgeted. "I wanted to thank you for bringing me here, but I'm making a mess of it."

Hawke smiled. "I'm sure I could think of a better way of you to thank me."

"And I'm sure that I'm acting like a fool." She shifted nervously. "I haven't exactly had many friends. Not even among my own clan. This is… tricky."

"What made you unpopular with the Dalish?"

"Being First to the Keeper, I was always… a bit secluded. I studied magic and history while the others were learning the _Vir Tanadhal_." She sighed. "Theron would study with me sometimes. He was going to be the clan storyteller someday. And he and Tamlen took me hunting a couple times. After they…" She shook her head. "It's good that I left. I'd have made a terrible Keeper. I was never that good with people."

"It won't take long before you're the most popular girl in the alienage." She really did have that puppy-eye thing down. It somehow made her even more beautiful.

"Mythal, I hope not. I'd manage to say something stupid in front of everyone and embarrass myself." Her smile was tentative. "Thank you for coming to visit me, Hawke. It… means a lot to me."

* * *

Later that day he wandered over to the Chantry's board, to see there was extra coin he could collect. He then noticed a man in white armour and with a bow strapped to his back pinning a request to the board.

Then the grand cleric appeared glaring at him. "Sebastian! Stop this madness!" she said forcibly. "The Chantry cannot condone revenge, Sebastian."

"It is my right, my duty, to show these assassins there is nowhere in the Free Marches to hide!" Sebastian spat.

He then walked off in a rage.

"This is murder," said the grand cleric removing the request from the Chantry's board. Sebastian then fired an arrow pinning it back to the board.

"No. What happened to my family was murder," he said and walked right past Hawke.

She then approached Hawke with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry you had to witness that disgraceful seen by the Chantry's Board. I am Elthina, grand cleric of Kirkwall. Sebastian's normally a good lad, but he's had a terrible shock."

"He said someone murdered his family?"

Elthina nodded. "Sebastian is the youngest son of the ruling family of Starkhaven. They were overthrown recently. Violently." She sighed. "Sebastian is the only surviving member."

"He's royalty?" said Hawke shocked.

Elthina nodded, but she looked deeply troubled. "Prince Sebastian Vael… if he succeeds in his pledge to take back his lands." She then shook his head at him. "He made a vow to the Maker to put worldly concerns behind him. It is a sin to forswear himself for a mere title."

Hawke crossed his arms, he couldn't get over the fact of the death of his father and sister. "I think his family deserves to be avenged."

"Sebastian would spend his coin to buy mere men's lives, the same as those who attacked his family. No matter how justified he feels, that is murder. And when he returns, I will tell him so again."

Once the Elthina was gone, Hawke wandered over to the Chantry's Board and looked at the request leave man had pinned on it. It was a request to kill several mercenaries up in the mountains. It looks simple enough and there was good money involved, so he took it.

* * *

Once he, Carver, Varric and Anders finished flooring the mercenaries they return turned back to the Chantry. They found Sebastian praying and the moment he heard them he turned to face them.

"Your family can rest now. Their killers are gone," said Hawke.

Sebastian looked at him in surprise. "Excuse me, who are—?" Realisation then hit him. "My post the Chanters' Board? Did Her Grace let that stay? I thought for sure no one even read… But you say you've killed them?" He then gave him grateful look. "You have my eternal gratitude, serah! It is comforting to think my parents might now rest easily in their graves."

Hawke frowned. "Why didn't your families enemies hunt you down, as well?"

"That's why I took the offensive. Thanks to you, those Flint Company assassins are no longer a danger. I'm the last of my line. Unless I survive, my family will have no justice."

"Who sent these mercenaries?"

Sebastian crossed his arms and pondered. "My family has ruled Starkhaven for six generations. We have enemies, but none who would identify themselves openly. A distant cousin of mine is claiming rulership now, but he is… a bit simple. He can be no more than a pawn in this plot."

"Surely you have a guess as to who was behind it?"

Sebastian shook his head. "My parents were always… prudent… in how they handle our nobles. They did not allow rivalries or resentments to flourish. The attack must have come from outside. Kirkwall is our largest trading partner." He then gestured with his hands. "I came back here to find supporters for my claim and perhaps of a clue to who is behind this foul deed."

Hawke nodded. "I hope their deaths bring you peace."

"Thank you. More than I like to say, I truly did not expect anyone but me to take up this cause." He then handed Hawke a pouch of coins. "Consider this an advance. When I secure my lands again, you will be paid royally."

"Thank you, I know what it's like to lose family," said Hawke taking the pouch. "I lost my sister when we try to escape the Blight."

Sebastian gave him a sympathetic look and nodded. "I can't help but think how many Fereldans lost their family because of those blighted monsters. Now if you'll excuse me, I must meet with the viscount and petition him for aid to a fellow city."

* * *

Hawke was wondering across the outskirts of the city, he did very little of that during his time with the Red Iron and he might as well get used to his new home. With him was Carver, Varric, Fenris and Merrill.

Then suddenly they came across a dwarf and his guards being attacked by giant spiders. At once they jumped to his rescue, but even after they slew the spiders dwarf was quivering in fright.

"The danger is passed," said Hawke. "Are you all right?"

"No thanks to this lot," said the dwarf gesturing to his men. "Can't get a decent blade at a bargain anymore." He then looked at Hawke curiously. "You though, you're what a man needs—a skilled enthusiast."

"Your mess just picked me up on the way by," Hawke pointed out.

"Still better than what I had," the dwarf shrugged. "Look, the name's Javaris Tintop. I need someone to help pacify the Qunari."

"Why do I get the feeling he's not talking about singing a lullaby?" Varric muttered.

"Those horn-heads in Kirkwall have a powder. That explodes. And it's just dust, not lyrium, no demons. Anyone can use it."

Varric rolled his eyes. "I often look at every second idiot and think 'he needs more power.'"

Hawke frowned. "I doubt they were eager to sell."

Javaris nodded grumpily. "That Arishok said I wasn't worthy, that only their outcasts, the Tal-Vashoth, are that mercenary. I said, 'Great, I'll talk to them.'" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't go over well. But, it made me think—maybe he'll bargain if I get rid of something that bothers him more than, well me."

Hawke nodded in understanding. "The Tal-Vashoth."

Javaris nodded. "The Tal-Vashoth. Are you up for some paid hunting?"

Hawke pondered for a moment. "I suppose there could be a reward for these Tal-Vashoth."

"As long as you do it, I'm happy. Now, best I could figure, they're up the Wounded Coast, a whole camp. Take their heads off and meet me at the compound in Kirkwall. Get this right, and we'll be richly rewarded. Richly!"

He then wandered off and Hawke turned to look at his companions, Varric and Fenris looked as if they had misgivings about this little adventure. However, they couldn't deny that ridding the Tal-Vashoth would keep the road safe.

* * *

So, they wandered up the Wounded Coast, found a several Dalish threatening to kill a man, who had once been a werewolf but was cured due to the actions of the Hero of Ferelden and the other Wardens. Fortunately they were able to convince her not to kill the poor man.

When they made their way towards the Tal-Vashoth camp they were stopped by another Tal-Vashoth, who, unlike his brethren, did not fancy himself a bandit and was decent enough to warn travellers about the Tal-Vashoth.

It took some convincing, but see how they were very capable he allow them to pass and to take down the Tal-Vashoth once and for all.

* * *

Once they return to Kirkwall they made their way down the docks towards the Qunari compound.

Javaris was there already trying to make good on the deal, but judging how the Qunari were looking it was not going well.

Javaris was relieved to see them. "Ah, my right hand arrives! Summon your Arishok—the bargain is done!" The Qunari walked off and Javaris looked at Hawke. "About time you showed. I've been here for hours."

Then he saw the Arishok. He was certainly an impressive individual, you could tell from a distance that he was a powerful general and clearly he was rarely beaten in battle. He sat down at his throne and narrowed his eyes at them as if they were infestations.

Then, surprisingly, Fenris step forwards. " _Arishokost. Marass shokra. Anaan esaam Qun_ ," he said.

The Arishok looked surprised. "The Qun from an elf? The madness of this… place."

Hawke leading closer to Fenris. "Friend of yours?"

"Friend of no one," Fenris replied.

Javaris shook his head. "Yes, well, that said, I am here to report that your hated Tal-Vashoth were felled one and all. Right?" He glanced at Hawke before turning his gaze back to the Arishok. "Yes, they were. So, I'm ready to open negotiations. For the explosive powder. As we agreed."

"No." Hawke blinked at the Arishok's simple answer. He was starting to get the inkling he'd stepped in another mess.

"He's not getting it. Make your chatty elf say something."

Chatty elf. Hawke sighed and glanced at Fenris. "Any insight that would help?"

Fenris shrugged. "Qunari do not abandon a debt. I humbly request clarification from the Arishok."

The Arishok looked at him. "I have a growing lack of disgust for you. The dwarf imagined the deal for the gaatlok. He invented a task to prove his worth, when he has none."

Fenris bowed his head. "Then we have wrongly inserted ourselves in your affairs. Would you have us kill this dwarf?"

"Wait." Javaris turned towards them. "What now?"

The Arishok simply waved dismissively. "If you faced Tal-Vashoth, he is not worth of dying to you. As he was not worthy of dying to them. But you…" The Arishok gestured at him. "You keep good company." It would appear that he made a slight impression on the Arishok. "Let him live. And leave."

"He had big plans for your recipe. I was supposed to get a piece of that." He was hoping that he would at least get some coin for its troubles.

"Dwarf, did your imaginary bargain make promises on my behalf?"

"I… expected your wisdom to be more profitable."

The Arishok shifted, and the Qunari around him suddenly began to make it very clear they were both large and armed. "Then you will pay, on my behalf."

Javaris threw up his hands. "Sod it all, take your coin. Take whatever. Horn-head oxmen and mongrel dog lords. Suck your own powder and blow your head off. Sod it."

Hawke watched him go with an amused expression. He heard the Arishok speak again. "You will leave as well, human. There's no more coin for you here."

Hawke gave the man what he hoped was a respectful bow, and departed. He had a feeling that his dealings with the Qunari were not yet over and had a feeling he would meet the Arishok again, the question was how that meeting take place.

* * *

"So, the Champion did make deals with the Qunari," said Cassandra.

"Though it was not to spread heresy, it would seem as if he was merely looking for coin at the time," Leliana pondered. "At least we know his connection with the Prince of Starkhaven and I would extremely doubt he would have joined up with the Champion if he was spreading heresy."

"We shall see," said Cassandra crossing her arms.


	11. Enemies Among Us

While he was walking across the Plaza he saw in Hightown when he saw a young woman talking to a templar, who was being particularly kind. It appeared that she was searching for one particular templar.

The moment she saw him she quickly turned to him. "Please, can you help me? My brother," she begged.

"What happened to your brother?" Hawke asked calmly.

She began to cry. "Keran was always so devout, so idealistic. He was so proud when the templars accepted him. I pleaded with him not to join the Order, but he wouldn't listen." She hugged herself fearfully. "You hear dark rumours about the templars and Knight-Commander Meredith. And now my brother is gone."

Hawke had heard of such rumours, mostly he assumed were idle gossip. However, Anders tale about how poorly the mages were treated here was true, he knew that for certain. Ordinarily he wouldn't want anything to do with the templars, but he knew how it felt to lose someone you care about.

"I'm here to help you. Just tell me what you know," said Hawke placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Keran would write to me every day. Then suddenly, no more letters. I wrote many times with no response. I tried to see him, but Knight-Commander Meredith threw me out. They won't tell me anything!"

Hawke rubbed his chin. "Your brother may indeed be in trouble. What can I do for you?"

She looked relieved. "Per chance in your journeys if you find yourself in the Gallows—ask the other recruits, Wilmod and Hugh, about my brother. They were Keran's closest friends in the Order. If anyone knows where he is, it's them. Maker bless you and watch after you in this endeavour."

Hawke soon gathered his brother, Carver, Anders, Fenris and Varric and they soon entered into the Gallows.

* * *

The moment they entered Fenris looked around, apparently this was the first time he had been inside the Circle of Magi outside of the Imperium.

"I've… heard about the Circle of Magi outside the Imperium, but I've never been in one." Fenris gave Hawke a concerned look. "Are you certain it's wise for you to be here?"

"Maybe not, but we'll be cautious."

Fenris continued looking around. "This seems more like a prison. I wonder if it's more effective than the Circle I know."

"How is the Imperial Circle of Magi different?"

"Once upon a time it was as it is here. The Chantry watched the magisters closely for any signs of corruption or weakness. Then it changed. The magisters were permitted to watch over their own, and templars kept only to enforce the law. What happened next was inevitable. The magisters rule again, as powerful as they ever were."

"You're saying the same thing could happen here."

"If the mages were permitted to be their own watches? Of course. It is too easy for a mage to resort to blood magic if they feel the need is great enough."

"As easy as it is to resort to a sword!" Anders said furiously. "You were created a living weapon. Should you not be trusted with your freedom?"

Fenris narrowed his eyes. "My power is not controlled by a demon. A mage can desire power, justice, revenge, protection… any cause will do, and then they are lost."

Hawke shook his head. "You can't say every mage is corrupt."

"All I am saying is the Imperium offers no answer. All that Andraste did long ago to end the tyranny of magic has been undone."

"She ended the tyranny of magic and replaced with an entirely new one," said Anders crossing his arms furiously.

"Considering all that magic has done to my homeland and my race I weep for your predicament. Power corrupts, as they say, and mages have power enough already."

Hawke shook his head. "According to everything I've seen, the Circle can't control mages anyhow."

"And what is the alternative? Freedom is a noble ideal, but I see no oppression here. I see fear… and danger. Speaking of which, I was wondering who taught you your magic if you were never in a circle."

"My father was a mage, in fact used to belong to this Circle, but he left to marry my mother. Then he taught both me and my sister when we showed signs of magic."

Fenris frowned. "I have yet to see your sister."

Hawke and Carver looked at each other, the wound was still quite raw. "That's because she died when we try to escape the Blight."

Fenris closes eyes. "I apologise, I did not mean…"

"It's fine, though mother still taking it pretty hard."

"She still worries every time we leave the house," said Carver.

* * *

He needed to be subtle about questions regarding templars. There was a group of three standing near the bronze statues. He walked over. "Do you know a recruit named Keran? His sister is looking for him."

"We cannot speak to you, messere."

"Probably for the best, Brother," Carver said.

He was about to agree when one of the other templars spoke up. "To the Void with that. Keran and the others are missing."

Some judicious questioning revealed that Keran was not the only missing recruit. And that it was supposed to be a secret. And that the Knight-Commander was a little bit on the hard-assed fanatical side. A few more questions revealed that a recruit named Wilmod had recently returned, then promptly left again to go walk around outside Kirkwall, followed by the Knight-Captain.

As they left the Gallows, he glanced at Varric. "So, are we rescuing Wilmod, or the Knight-Captain?"

"I do not know, let's hope this is just nothing."

* * *

As they approached, it was starting to look like they were going to have to be rescuing Wilmod. The Knight-Captain, a short blond haired man, was looking at the poor man furiously.

"Andraste be my witness, Wilmod. I will have the truth from you. Now!"

"Mercy, sir, mercy!" Wilmod begged.

"Were it that easy."

"Don't hit me."

The Knight-Captain then kneed him in the chest and pulled out his sword. "I will know where you're going. And I will know now."

"Don't you lay another hand on that boy," Hawke warned.

"It's the blasted knight-captain. Don't," Carver said staring at him in horror.

The knight-captain turned towards them. "This is templar business, stranger."

Whatever else he'd been going to say was lost as the templar recruit started laughing. "You have struck me for the last time, you pathetic human. To me!"

"Maker preserve us," the knight-captain said as Wilmod suddenly shifted, becoming an abomination.

Hawke drew his staff, but hesitated. If he started slinging around magic in front of the templar knight-captain, it was going to be difficult. Fortunately, at that moment, one of the demons struck the templar, sending him flying and he hit the ground, and lay unmoving. Hawke called forth a lightning storm to assist Varric, Fenris and Carver while Anders went to the knight-captain to heal his wounds.

When the last of the demons had fallen, Hawke went to check on the downed templar. He was bleeding, and fairly badly injured and Anders was kneeling by his feet. "I'm sure I'm going to regret this," said Anders as he cast a healing spell. He immediately took his hands away as the templar opened his eyes and got shakily back to his feet.

"I knew… I knew he was involved in something sinister," he said looking at the various corpses. "But this. Is it even possible?"

"Do you think he was possessed?" Hawke asked. Stupid question, of course the man had been possessed, but he needed to get a better idea of what the knight-captain had seen.

"Normally, we only worry that mages will fall victim to possession." He knelt next to Wilmod's corpse. "I have heard of blood mages, or demons in solid form, who could summon others into unwilling hosts." The man's voice sounded haunted. "But I had not thought one of our own would be susceptible."

"You shouldn't have been out here alone with him."

"I am Knight-Captain Cullen. I thank you for your assistance. I have been conducting an investigation of some of our recruits that have gone missing. Wilmod was the first to return. I had hoped to confront him quietly, out of sight."

Hawke frowned. "If you didn't know he was possessed, why draw your sword on a recruit?"

"He had only been back a few days when he left again secretly. It set off some warning bells." Cullen gestured for them to walk with him as he began heading back to Kirkwall. "I meant to scare him into a confession. He had to believe my threats were genuine."

If Wilmod and Keran had run afoul of the same danger, than Keran's time was likely running out. And he had promised Macha he would help. "Do you know what happened to Wilmod while he was gone?"

Cullen shook his head. "Obviously more than I had anticipated." He sighed. "Wilmod has never been fully… convinced of the Order's rules. Mages cannot be our friends. They must always be watched. I thought Wilmod might be meeting with some old friends who'd escaped the Circle."

"I've got friends who are mages. Are you saying the need to 'always be watched,' as well?"

"I was at the Circle Tower in Ferelden during the Blight. I saw first-hand how Templars' trust and leniency can be rewarded."

"Trust and leniency?" Anders scoffed. "Is that what you call it?"

"I still have nightmares of Uldred's depravities."

He was a mage. He was walking back to town, side by side with the Knight-Captain. He had a staff strapped to his back. Fortunately, it appeared the Knight Captain had taken it for a polearm of some kind. Behind Cullen's back, Varric was just staring with a rather bemused expression on his face. Fenris and Carver were both carefully expressionless. "I was trying to find another recruit, a friend of Wilmod's. Do you know where Keran is?"

Cullen shook his head. "He also disappeared. They were last seen together at the Blooming Rose. But I had no luck interrogating the, ah, young ladies there." Maker, the man was actually blushing. "I doubt they know anything about magic or demons."

Hawke just shook his head. "I'll speak to them. You never know how much you can learn from pillow talk."

"The Order would be truly in your debt if you helped us with this. No one at the brothel will speak with me for fear I would shut them down for serving our recruits. If you learn what manner of creature did this to Wilmod, please come tell me in the Gallows. I will ensure you are rewarded." Cullen gave him a slight bow as they entered Kirkwall before going on his way.

* * *

They reached the Blooming Rose and it was certainly lively if nothing else. Loads of young girls hanging around drunkard men with very few clothes on. If their mother knew that both he and Carver were in a brothel she would've kill them.

"If someone here tries to hire me again, I'm leaving," Anders muttered as they entered the Blooming Rose.

"Is that Gamlen, over by the bar?" Carver asked.

Hawke sighed. "Well, at least he's putting the silvers I gave him to good use."

Varric laughed. He was about to say something when a young woman gave him a broad smile. "Varric. I haven't seen you in ages. When are you going to introduce me to more of your friends?" She gave the rest of them a coy smile.

"Tomorrow. Promise." The woman trailed a hand over Carver's arm before going to talk to another client. Hawke raised an eyebrow at the dwarf. "What?" Varric asked.

"So who would we talk to about who visited who when?" Hawke asked.

"I'm sure I don't know, but if I did, I'd probably say Viveka."

"And which one is Viveka?"

"I'm just guessing here, but the short haired brunette by the bar. The one that just slapped your uncle."

"I like her already." Hawke started over, and then shook his head and laughed when yet another of the ladies caught Varric's arm and promptly dragged him off. He walked up to Viveka. "A couple of templar recruits went missing. They were last seen here."

"You'll have to be specific. We do a lot of business with the templars."

He didn't miss Anders' smirk. "The templars are the ones who want this information," Hawke said.

"We make a lot of our money off of nervous templars that expect some privacy."

"I'll be discreet," he promised.

"Let me look through the books. Wilmod… Keran…" She traced a finger down the page. "Here we go. Wilmod came in here a lot. You sure he had time to be a templar?" She raised an eyebrow at him before going back to the book. "The both of them last saw 'Idunna the Exotic Wonder from the East.'"

"That's quite the stage name."

"It sounds better than the 'Tramp From Darktown'. You should hear what some of the others are called." She sighed. "You didn't hear any of this from me. We clear?"

* * *

She was pretty enough, but he wouldn't go as far as to say 'exotic'. Or 'wonder' for that matter.

"Idunna, right? Do you remember _entertaining_ a templar named Wilmod a few weeks ago? Or Keran?"

Her eyes were coy, slightly downcast. "Wilmod, Wilmod. That doesn't sound familiar."

He sighed. "Do your clients like this charade? It must get dreadfully tiresome."

"Wh-Whatever do you mean?" She sashayed to the bed, then sat, smoothing the covers with one hand. "Questions are boring. Why don't we have some real fun?"

"She may not know anything," Fenris said, staring at the woman. Hawke was finding it hard to look away from her as well. He blinked. Why was he finding it hard to look away from her.

"You should listen to your friend," she said, her smile inviting.

"We have to ask her about Keran. What's your problem?"

Fenris's eyes suddenly widened. "I don't know. Be careful."

He turned and looked at Iduuna firmly. "I'm here on business. Keran. Wilmod."

"Answer one of my questions first." She bent forward. "Who told you about little old me?"

He had every intention of demanding his question to be answered. Then something strange came over him. "It was… Viveka. She showed me… her books." He couldn't make his mind focus.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" She rose, and walked towards him. "So Viveka sold me out, did she? That drab, pathetic little sewer rat. She will be dealt with." Her smile widened slightly. "Just do one more thing for me. Draw your blade," she said. He obeyed, pulling the knife out of its sheath. "And bring it gently across your throat."

The knife raised. He felt the edge touch his throat. "I will not…" He focused, calling a bit of his magic to him. The spell around him broke. "Be toyed with." He stepped forward, placing the knife against her throat.

"How did you…?" It took her several seconds to realise that he was a mage and a powerful one. "Oh shit," she said. Immediately she dropped to her knees. "Spare me, messere!"

He glanced at his companions. They were blinking, coming out of it. Carver looked a bit dizzy. Fenris looked furious. So, for that matter, did Anders. "What foul magic was that?" Hawke asked. He could still feel the edge of his own blade.

"Blood and desire, in equal measure. An art I learned from… elsewhere."

"Blood magic, then?" He glared.

"Yes, messere. Please don't kill me."

"You're going to answer all of my questions. And if there's even a hint of magic…" He tightened his grip on the blade, and saw Fenris's hands start to glow.

"Tarohne put me here. To send biddable templar recruits to the sanctuary. Three Spear Alley, in the Undercity. I enchanted Wilmod and Keran weeks ago. But after they left these walls, I know not what came of them. Please, let me live. It's not my fault. It was all Tarohne's idea."

Until she said that, he'd been considering just handing her over to the templars. What did she mean, not her fault? Who uses blood magic to enchant people by accident? "Tell me about Tarohne."

"She put me up to this. She said we can recreate the ancient Imperium. That mages can rule again, not serve. She says the templars cannot hold against us if we stand up and fight."

Fighting for freedom was a worthy goal. Fighting for the right to be treated with dignity was something he could wholeheartedly support. Fighting to become the Imperium? "This base of yours—how many other mages are there? Any other defenses?"

"People go in and out all the time. Sometimes a handful, sometimes more. There are traps. Magical traps. There's a hidden switch at the front—it turns them off. Th-That's all I know."

He nodded. Then he drove the blade up under her rib cage. Quick, quiet, and relatively painless. She fell limply to the ground. He looked over to see Varric standing in the doorway, a bit wide-eyed. "Blood mage."

"Shit," Varric said. "I'll go chat with the Madam."

* * *

They fought their way through a variety of demons. Shades. Desire. Risen corpses. Even a rage demon. Until eventually they managed to reach the bottom of the chamber and there they found a man suspended in the end some sort of cocoon.

However, before they could release him, more mages appeared in the one that was leading them looked completely deranged. He had to assume that this was Tarohne.

"How wonderful, more vessels for our experiments."

Hawke narrowed his eyes at her. "Where is Keran?"

"Perhaps the demons will find one of you suitable."

"Always a demon thing. Can't you people say 'no'?" said Anders shaking his head in disbelief.

"I am not some hopeless waif that ran crying to a demon—I sought them out and embraced them." She gestured wildly.

"Why have you taken the recruits?" Hawke asked, trying to keep her focused on him while his companions spread out.

"Demons can inhabit much more than mages and corpses. With assistance, they can control anyone I ask. Any templar… any noble… any well-meaning meddler."

He glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. "You do know I cut a path through your abominations, right?"

"Good, good, the demons like spirit." He almost winced at her comment. Demons like spirit. Even Varric couldn't make that kind of line up. "If a few more templars fall to the demons, we can seed chaos in their ranks. How many abominations can they discover amongst their own before it drives the knight-commander crazy?"

It appeared that the knight-commander was the focus of the attack. He couldn't help but wonder how many poor mages in the gallows had suffered because of this woman. "Tell me where Keran is."

"The experiments need so much fuel, you see. So many living vessels are found wanting. Useless vessels can still feed the compost heap. So it's not a complete waste."

"Good to know you're barking mad. That makes things easier."

"In days of old, the Tevinter Imperium spanned the known world. Demons were their allies - held in check by power and knowledge. With a wave of a hand I could do more than a templar can achieve in a lifetime. Yet they command us? Absurd. We should be ruling them. We should rule you all. Kill the vessels only if you must."

He drew his staff, and hit her in the face with a blast of ice. Her startled expression almost made sitting through her crazy speech worth it. Next to him, Anders sent a fireball into the freshly summoned shades. Hawke turned, and did the same to the mages that had summoned the shades. Carver and Fenris moved in, their greatswords cleaving through the staff of the mages they fought against.

It took him and Anders almost a minute to work out how to remove the enchantment binding Keran. The man fell to the ground. He slowly climbed to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "Is it… Is it over?"

"Keran?"

"Yes, that's my name. Oh thank the Maker, I thought He had abandoned me."

"Do not trust him. He is likely possessed," Fenris whispered in his ear.

Carver just stared at Tarohne and her blood mages horrified. "I never… I never understood why people could be so terrified of mages. Our family had two. You. Bethany. But this… Andraste was right to warn about magic."

Hawke sighed. "Tarohne made a choice to practice blood magic. Most mages are good people."

Carver looked at him. "You don't think I know that? It's just that I never really thought about their side. Now I see."

"Wh-what happens to me now?" Keran asked nervously.

Hawke had really no idea, his father never really taught him how to test if someone was possessed not. He looked towards Anders, hoping he would have a solution. "Any chance you can tell if Keran has an extra passenger?"

Anders nodded. "Well, there's one sure way." He shrugged, and hit Keran with a blast of magic.

The recruit yelped. "What was that about?"

Anders shrugged. "If there was a demon in there, it would have defended itself. Looks like he's clear."

Keran glanced at Anders, then looked beseechingly at Hawke. "Don't tell the templars. I-I don't know what they'd do to me. Please, I need to go back, tell them I'm all right Tell my sister… I-I must go."

Anders looked at Hawke. "When you talk to Ser Cullen, maybe downplay the blood magic angle. We don't need the templars cracking down even harder."

Hawke's eyes went to Tarohne's corpse. If it wasn't for mages like her, they wouldn't need templars in the first sodding place.

* * *

He saw Cullen observing Keran's reunion with Macha. The young recruit was back in templar armor. His eyes widened when he saw Hawke. Hawke sighed, and walked up to Cullen. "Blood mages have infiltrated your ranks. They've been implanting your recruits with demons."

Cullen stared at him horrified. "Sweet blood of Andraste."

Macha's voice came, trembling and fearful. "D-Demons? Did you say something about recruits and demons?"

Keran tried to calm her. "I didn't want to tell you, Macha. They… they were horrible. Those mages see the rest of us as ants to be crushed." He shook his head. "They won't stop until they've destroyed the Chantry and the templars forever."

Hawke held out his hands calmly. "Not all mages are like that."

"Brother, not now," Carver hissed.

"True, not every mage is gives in to temptation, banana ever free of it," said Cullen. "At any time, any mage could become a monster, from the lowest apprentice to the most seasoned enchanters. Mages cannot be treated like people. They are not like you and me."

"Surely that's a little harsh," Macha said.

"Yet also through," Fenris added.

"They are weapons. They have the power to light a city on fire in a fit of pique," said Cullen firmly.

Hawke sighed, he knew that mages were not just simple victims, but neither were the templars. "There's fault on both sides. We must find a way to live in peace."

"Perhaps you are right," Cullen said. "Perhaps mages need better education as to why the Chantry functions as it does. Perhaps they would not go against the will of Andraste herself. I will look into it." Cullen turned towards Keran reluctantly. "Keran, I'm afraid I must relieve you of your commission. If there is any chance he still harbours a demon in him—"

"No," Macha said. She gave Cullen a pleading look. "You can't really think that. Keran's fine. He's safe."

"He is not to blame." Fenris shook his head solemnly. "But tell that to the victims if it turns out that our suspicions are correct."

"Please, ser. I tried to resist. I never took anything they offered." He held his hands out. "I-I need this position or my sister can't eat. I've been training for five years."

Cullen looked at Hawke, no doubt asking for his judgement. "We conducted tests on Keran. He's not possessed. He can stay in the Order."

"I hesitate to ask what methods you used that you are so certain." Cullen gazed at Hawke for a moment. And then, to Hawke's surprise, the man simply nodded. "Still, you have done much for us by stopping these blood mages. I will heed your request."

"A wise choice," Fenris said.

"If he has shown no sign of demonic possession in ten years' time, Keran will become eligible for full knighthood."

Macha stepped forward. "Thank you, serah. Again. But without a full knighthood, Keran's pay is so small… I do not know if I can reward you as you deserve—"

He was about to tell her no reward was needed when Cullen stepped forward. "I will handle that, miss." He offered Hawke a small pouch of coin. "You have done the Order a great service. We will not forget it." He gave Hawke a small bow before walking away, gesturing for both Macha and Keran to accompany him.

Hawke looked down at the pouch in his hand and then looked at the others. "That went… better than I expected."

* * *

"I find it hard to believe that Cullen didn't realise the Champion was a mage until later on," said Cassandra.

"Indeed I find it surprising as well, but this proves that the Champion was not involved with blood magic and in fact helped the templars in some way," Leliana pointed out.

"True, and Cullen has told us quite a bit of information about the Champion. Still, we should find out what else the dwarf has to tell us."


	12. Wayward Son

Hawke wanted to visit Merrill see how she was coping with in the Alienage. The moment she saw him she nearly jumped and rushed over to him.

"This city is amazing!" she said excitedly. "Do you know, I saw someone get mugged? Right outside! It was fascinating!" She just shook her head. "Everything happens here all at once! How does anybody keep it all straight?"

Hawke shrugged. "I don't think everyone does. Except Varric. And he's properly full of it."

"Really?" Merrill blinked. "Isn't that… sad?"

She then took a seat and shook her head. "It's so busy here. So many things just get… lost."

"Do you miss the Dalish?" he asked sitting down next to her.

Merrill sighed. "I miss Harhren Paivel's stories. The creaking of the aravels in the breeze. The city is so busy and confusing. And the elves here are not like my clan. But I'll get used to Kirkwall in time."

Hawke gave her sympathetic look. "Are you feeling lost here, Merrill?"

She nodded. "A bit. But… I'll adjust." She then smiled at him. "I'm glad you came by, I needed someone to talk to."

* * *

He invited Merrill to accompany him. They ran into Carver as they walked towards the gates of the alienage. He informed him that Meeran had sent another letter, telling him that merchant was looking for someone with certain skills. While he read through the letter Merrill happily greet Carver, complimenting him profusely on his 'swording'. While Carver was attempting to explain being a 'sworder' to Merrill, Gabriel noticed an elven woman talking to a templar. He started eavesdropping.

"I am sorry for your loss, Mistress. But I can offer your son mercy only if he turns himself in."

"I'm trying to find him, but—" The woman was practically sobbing.

He noticed that the woman had Dalish tattoos, he originally thought that Merrill was the only Dalish living in the city.

"The templars cannot tolerate apostates." Despite his words, the templar's voice was gentle, and he placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder before leaving.

Carver elbowed him. "This will be mother if we're not careful."

Hawke sighed. Tears were streaming down the poor woman's face. He walked towards her. "It sounds like your son is in trouble. If anything I can do?"

"You… you heard all that and still would help? An apostate?" She hesitated, then glanced from him to Merrill. Merrill gave her an encouraging smile, and she turned back to Hawke. "Oh, thank you… I am Arianni. My boy, Feynriel… he's all I have, all my family. When I learned he had magic, I could not bear to send him to the Circle." Tears started flowing again. "But his connection to the Fade… it gives him nightmares, dreams of demons, speaking in his mind. I would rather lose him to the Circle than to himself."

She began to explain the nightmares he's been having and when he heard that she contacted Thrask, he ran away. She also mentioned that she was once Dalish, but fell in love with an Antivan merchant by the name of Vincento, but when she was with child both her clan and Vincento cast her aside. All things considered, Vincento was likely the better option. Though it seemed Thrask was a good man, at least.

* * *

They found Vincento near his stall in front of the Hanged Man. At first, the man denied even having a son. Hawke called a small amount of fire to his hand, then asked him again. Almost immediately, Vincento changed his tune, and suggested they go talk to a former templar named Samson.

Samson, at least, was easy enough to find. The smell alone could lead anyone right to him. It became abundantly clear that he was suffering from lyrium withdrawal, his father mentioned it happened if templars don't get their hands on lyrium.

He mentioned that he directed the boy and another girl to a man called Reiner. Apparently he only helped escaping mages if they pay him in coin, no doubts we can get his hands on lyrium, because he mentioned that the man might have kidnapped them. He gathered Fenris and Aveline before heading into the docks.

They arrived too late to help the girl, but found no trace of Feynriel. Aveline found a shipping manifest that mentioned the name of another man and a location in Darktown. Hawke discovered the girl was Thrask's daughter, because she has a letter addressed to him, and tucked it away for later.

* * *

They made their way into Darktown and found the man they were looking for and apparently he was quite pleased to see them, though for quite different reasons.

"Why, look here, boys. Volunteers!" he smirked. "Clap 'em in irons, and let's see what the Tevinters will pay for them."

Hawke shook his head, then glanced over at Fenris. "Make him talk."

Fenris gave a small smile as he stepped forward. "I can do that." Blue light surrounded him as he stuck a hand through the slaver's chest, then moved it around a bit.

The man fell to the ground, gasping and choking. "Andraste's great flaming ass. How did you do that?" He shook his head, then quickly began to talk. "Never mind. I-I've stashed the boy in a cave. A smuggler hideout on the Wounded Coast. Tevinters will be by the finish the deal today. Now… c-can I go?"

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "I let you live, and I condemn countless innocents into slavery."

He then sent a blast of ice into the slaver's face. Fenris was moving before the other slavers even began to respond, with Aveline and Carver only a step behind. If this kept up, soon there wouldn't be any slavers in Kirkwall.

After the slavers were dead, he found a map. "Looks like they took him to some bolt hold in the Wounded Coast.

* * *

He left Aveline with Carver and Fenris to finish up with any remaining slavers. Anders, Merrill, and Isabela headed out with him towards the coast.

They fought their way through another dozen slavers, and then found Feynriel. Unfortunately, Feynriel had a knife to his throat. "Take one more step, and the boy dies."

"This is as close as I get," Hawke assured, and looked at Isabela.

Isabela reached for one of her knives slowly. Then, quick as a flash, she flung it and impaled the man's throat and he fell to the ground dead.

At once the other slavers retaliated, but facing against three mages they were outmatched. Once they were all dead Feynriel ran down the steps towards them looking quite furious.

"You would have let him kill me!" he snapped. "He had a sword at my throat and you just… I mean, thank you, but… What if you were wrong?"

"You were too valuable for him to kill," Hawke assured.

"Is that my choice? Prisoner or slave?" he snapped. "Who are you? Are you working for the templars?"

It was clear with all the commotion that the boy had not seen him use magic, though he could not blame him. He sighed. "Your mother sent me."

"Hrmph. Hardly a difference." Feynriel crossed his arms. "I can't believe her. My whole life, it was all, 'I'll love you and protect you.' Then I have some bad dreams and it's 'off to the templars'."

"I'm here to help you, Feynriel."

"Why? You don't even know me."

Hawke held out his hand, and called up his magic. "I am you."

"I guess you are." Feynriel's entire body seemed to relax. "You know, you're the first mage I've ever met. Most are locked up like rats. Would…" He hesitated before continuing. "Is there any chance you'd help me reach the Dalish? That's where I was trying to go. See if they would take me in. I'm as much Dalish as human."

"You'd be alone among the Dalish. Even more a Dalish would be here."

"Compare to be held in a prison, or made Tranquil? I'll risk being lonely," he then gave him a pleading look. "Look, I know it's different in other kingdoms, but here… no one helps Circle mages. Anything they templars don't like, you get the brand. The Dalish, they've had magic forever. They could teach me. I won't be a danger, I swear."

"It will be your humanity that marks you among the people, not your magic," said Merrill. "But I think they will take you."

"Keeper trains him, keeps him safe from demons, no one gets locked up," said Anders. "Sounds like a winning plan."

"They probably could teach him," said Isabela. "Whether they would is another matter entirely."

He reassured the lad, and then agreed to help him get to the Keeper.

* * *

He let Arianni know what had befallen her son. She was pleased by the news, and insisted on rewarding him with an antique Dalish ring. Afterwards he returned to the Gallows and gave Thrask the letter from his daughter promising not to inform the templars that he neglected his duty to the Order.

He saw Cullen wave him over. With a slightly reluctant sigh, he went to see what the man wanted. Cullen actually smiled at him. "I have told the knight-commander of your service.

"Oh, more attention. That's just grand," Carver muttered.

Cullen frowned at him and then turned to Hawk. "She commends your quick thinking and has agreed to keep the lad Keran around for observation."

It was probably best to hear what the knight-commander was like from a templars' perspective. "I've heard a lot about the knight-commander. What's she really like?"

"She is not an easy taskmaster. But it is not an easy task. I would not have liked her when I was younger. I thought mages deserved a softer touch." There was a haunted look in the man's eyes. "But Meredith is never fooled by a sweet face. She always sees the demon behind it."

He expected as much. "You sound Fereldan. How did you end up here?"

Cullen sighed. "I was in the Circle tower in Ferelden when Uldred summoned his demons. I was held in a cage for… I can't even say. Weeks? Months? It was one unending nightmare. I watched… what those mages did, what they became. I would gladly give my life to avoid seeing that again."

He'd heard some rumours about what had happened there. But from what he had heard, it had been a mage that had put a stop to it. His own cousin, in fact. "You have to admit, the templars have bought some of this hatred on themselves."

Cullen sighed. "That is the popular school of thought, no?" He then turned and looked at the statue's of former slaves. "It used to be that templars were welcomed wherever they went—for defending people from dark magics. Now the townsfolk are as likely to slam their doors as offer us a bed. The image of the poor, chained apprentice is a powerful one. And one the mages are more than willing to exploit."

* * *

On that happy note, Hawke decided to deal with this merchant Hubert who needed help from the Bone Pit. It turned out the trip was quite worthwhile, because after saving several Ferelden miners from a nest of dragons, blooper not, he was given ownership to half the mine.

If the Deep Road expedition did not go as well as he thought he would, then at least they would have some business enterprise and would earn them a lot of money.

Then Magistrate Vanard approached him, hearing he made his name in the Red Iron, wonders his help recapturing a prisoner. He said as he did this he would offer aid to Hawke and at first it just looked like a simple job.

* * *

He took, Aveline, Carver, Merrill and Varric with him and they met up with several guardsmen at the entrance.

"I've been sent for the man you've cornered here in the ruins," said Hawke to the commanding officer.

"Ah. So you're the reinforcements the magistrate promised," said the commander. "The man you're looking for, he's holed up in the ruins. Though I doubt he's still in one piece."

"That bastard's to be brought in alive after all he's done?" a voice yelled. Hawke and his friends turned to find a very angry elf making his way down the slope. "Just because it isn't you and your pretty little shemlen children he's after…"

Apparently there was more to this job than he originally for and Hawke looked to the elf. "Please, calm down and tell me what happened," he said calmly.

"The man you're after, he targets elves!" the elf yelled furiously pointing at the cave's entrance. "He dragged my daughter into the ruins and killed her. I want him dead!" He then looked down to his feet in despair. "My girl, Lia, she wasn't the first victim. Over the years he's taken dozens of our children are not once has he paid for his crimes!"

"Would you mind tell me who you are?" Hawke asked.

"My name is Elren, I'm a merchant in the city," he said. He then looked at Hawke with a begging look. "Please, no one else cares that our children are being slaughtered like beasts.

Hawke clenched his fists, how could anyone allow such a thing. "I'll tear his throat out myself."

Elren gave him an appeasing look. "Thank you, serah. You have no idea what this means."

Aveline frowned. "You couldn't turn to the guards?"

"For all my damned coin, I'm still only an elf to these shemlen," he spat. "There'll be no justice for my girl in the court of Kirkwall."

Hawke then turned to the guardsman. "What do you say about this?" he asked.

"Yes, what do you have to say?" said Aveline narrowing her eyes.

"They won't go in after him," Elren glared. "They're stalling, trying to give the murderous bastard a chance to get away."

"Oy now, elf," said the guardsman. "Like we said before, you're bleeding mad if you think we'll be going against the magistrate's orders."

Hawke looked to the others and they nodded.

"This murderer cannot be allowed to walk free," he said to Elren.

"Then that bastard will finally get what he deserves. Thank you."

The guardsman was not too pleased with this decision. "Not wise, stranger. You tried to take justice into your own hands, the magistrate'll have your head."

Aveline narrowed her eyes. "Only if it's reported."

"I must do what is right," said Hawke firmly.

He then led the others into the ruins.

* * *

The ruins were crawling with giant spiders, but they were easy to take so they had no problem navigating the ruins.

Then they came across a small elven girl lying on the ground with a frightened look on her face. She looked at them fearfully. "Who are you? Please, can you get me out of here? I just want to go home."

"Don't be afraid, _da'len_. Everything is going to be all right," Merrill assured.

"Lia?" Hawke guessed and slightly surprised. "Your father told us you were dead!"

Lia looked up. "My father? Is he safe? Kelder said he'd hurt my family if I don't come with him…"

Hawke had a good hunch that Kelder was the murderer, he still couldn't understand why the magistrate hadn't executed him. For that matter why had he not alerted the guardsmen, something was not right.

"Don't see any injuries, are you all right?" he asked placing a hand on her shoulder.

Lia looked to the ground tearfully. "He hit me, told me I was nothing, I begging to stop hurting me. I didn't think he would, but out of nowhere, he pushed me away and just… started crying." She then looked up into his eyes. "Don't you see? He didn't mean to hurt me! He told me! There are demons, they make him do these horrible things!"

Hawke of the bridge of his nose and looked at his companions, who are also shaking their heads in disbelief. "I'll have to remember to use that. 'A demon made me do it!'"

"There are a lot of cruel people out there, princess. Completely demon-free," Varric said kindly.

Lia shook her head. "But… it's true! How else could he do something like this? Please…"

Hawke knew that she was young and didn't understand, but in time she will. "I'm sorry, Lia. It's too dangerous to let Kelder live."

"But it's not his fault! It's not!" she said shaking ahead furiously.

Hawke helped her up and gestured to the passageway behind him. "Run to the entrance, you'll find your father there."

Lia did even look at him and ran down the passageway.

* * *

They had to fight their way through even more giant spiders, but eventually they found a young man leaning against a stone pillar. This had to be Kelder.

He looked at them slightly disappointed. "I knew my father would eventually send someone. I was hoping the beasts down here would get to me first.

Hawke frowned. "The magistrate sent me, I've never even met your father."

Kelder sighed as he pulled himself up. "He didn't tell you, did he? The magistrate is my father. He tried so hard to keep me—and what I've done—hidden away."

"I'm disgusted by the both of them," Aveline muttered.

Hawke had to agree. "The magistrate is supposed to protect the people of the city, and that includes the elves."

Kelder fumbled with his fingers. "Father is a good man. He tried to help, to stop me. But he can't… no one can." He then turned his back on them. "That elf girl. She had no right to be so beautiful, so perfect. The demons said she needed to be taught a lesson, like all the others." He then turned and looked at them with a slightly furious expression. "The Circle was supposed to help me, but they lied! They said there was no demons, that I was mad. This isn't my fault."

Hawke couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Let me get this straight. You torture and murder elven children for being too beautiful?"

"While blaming demons that aren't even there," Carver spat. "He's just mad."

"I… I didn't want to hurt them. They forced me! The demons don't like it when they cry."

Hawke looked at him furiously. "If the Circle suspected a demon at work, they wouldn't risk setting you loose in the city."

"No! They lied!" said Kelder shaking his head.

"Excuse after excuse. Can we just kill him!" said Carver.

"I can't stop. I've tried too many times. Please, you have to kill me. There's no other way," he begged.

"There! See? He wants to die. Problem solved."

"Just tell my father I'm sorry… for everything."

Hawke nodded. "If nothing short of killing you will stop this, then so be it. Goodbye, Kelder."

"Some people are simply broken," said Aveline.

Hawke then drew out his knife and sliced Kelder's throat.

* * *

When they returned, Elren was relieved to see his daughter safe and Kelder was dead. Hawke watched as Lia looked at him, he hopes that someday that she would understand why he had to do it.

The lieutenant wasn't too pleased and walked off with the rest of his guards.

"Deplorable," said Aveline. "If it came to the guards then we could have saved a lot more elven children."

"At least there won't be any more killings," said Hawke.

"I'll make sure the right people here this, Hawke," Aveline assured.

* * *

"I didn't realise that such depravity resides within Kirkwall," said Cassandra shaking her head in disbelief. "Slaver? A magistrate that ignored the deaths of innocent elven children, just so he can protect his son."

"Kallian was living proof of the injustice of elves and is proof that they need the same rights as any human. It would seem that the Champion was a symbol for justice after all," Leliana said.

"It's still too soon to say, you remember what had happened," Cassandra reminded.

Leliana nodded. "Then let us see what our storyteller has to say."


	13. Shepherding Wolves

A trip to the Hanged Man resulted in them doing Isabela a favour. The favour ended up involving a former raider, smugglers, dock officials soliciting bribes, an imaginary fire, a lot of very stupid guards, and a deadly poison. There was also a dwarf lord on the run and a lot of carta assassins, but that didn't involve Isabela. At least, he didn't think it involved Isabela. There was a mention of Rivain, so it could have involved Isabela. It was probably a good thing Aveline was busy that day.

He joined Varric for that weekly game of Wicked Grace. Varric dealt a hand of cards, while Carver tried, and mostly failed, to flirt with Isabela. The pirate seemed to enjoy riling up his little brother.

* * *

It was well past midnight when they left. They started to make their way through the market when they saw a woman in chantry garb walking around.

Then she was approached by a man, clearly affirmed, who said, "Here, miss. Word is, you're looking for help and paying well.

"I need someone native to the dark places beneath Lowtown," said the sister. "If you claim as much, yes, I will pay."

"I am, I am. Let's just slip into this alley and me and my fellows can have a look at the money on offer."

The woman, stupidly, followed the man down the alley.

A moment later, the thug was leading the woman into a dark corner.

"She has chosen poorly," said Fenris.

Hawke nodded. "It does appear she could use some help. Especially now."

They exchanged a glance, and then headed in to save the woman from herself.

* * *

They quickly ran round the corner just in time to see the chantry sister. Upon seeing them the bandits immediately attacked them, but they were clearly outmatched. once they were dealt with Hawke approached the chantry sister.

"Well, thank you for your timely intervention. I am… out of my element."

Hawke shook his head. "A foolish risk in Lowtown."

She gave him a somewhat predatory look. "I had to come here to get the type of person I need. Someone of bloody skill, but also integrity. Perhaps the kind who might leap to someone's defence." She took a step towards him. "I have a charge who needs passage from the city. If you are willing and capable, meet me at my safehouse nearby."

He exchanged a look with the others. "I just saved you in an alley, and suddenly we're in business?"

"You're in Lowtown. What grand scheme could I be interrupting?"

He exchanged another look with the others. It looked as if they just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

She walked past them. "Varnell?"

A templar emerged from the shadows. "A bloody templar. Just what we need," Carver muttered.

The woman nodded to them. "I hope you will come. This matter only grows more urgent with time." She walked away.

"She's hiding something," said Hawke.

"Clearly," said Fenris.

"Still, we could use the money," Carver admitted.

"Then let's proceed with caution," Hawke advised.

* * *

They made their way to this safe house and as he bumped into Merrill along the way, apparently she had gotten lost, and she ended up joining them.

Varnell stood with his blade drawn. His stance was wide, ready to move on them. Hawke had the sneaking suspicion the man might be hostile. "I'm expected," Hawke said.

"I thank you for coming," the chantry sister said. "This matter is delicate, and I need someone of… limited notoriety who will not link this to me." She adjusted her robes. "It is an escort, but I think you will agree, the nature of the party makes this… unique."

He sighed. "If this is criminal, I already have enough trouble."

"I should think you're about to have more. I am Sister Petrice. I have assumed a burden of charity. This is my charge." She gestured as Varnell led out…

"A saarebas? Here?" Fenris shook his head.

"Would even a templar bind a mage like this? A survivor of the infighting with their Tal-Vashoth outcasts. I call him 'Ketojan' a bridge between worlds. The viscount, and others, feel that peace begins with appeasement. This mage would likely be returned to his brutal kin. He can serve a purpose. I want him free. He must be guided from the city without alerting his people, or being seen in my care." As she talked he couldn't help but feel something in her words rang hollow.

"I've had dealings with the Qunari leader. He'd want to know about this."

Petrice was taken aback by this. "You… have dealt with their leader? If you have interacted with Qunari, you know how they treat those who leave their heathen order. The Arishok would doom this poor creature. But knowing this is useful. If they challenge you, attacking an ally would only confirm their barbarism. You are still right for the task."

Hawke looked at her suspiciously. "I can get him out of Kirkwall. He's a bit conspicuous for the streets, though."

"Better out there than here with the templar," Carver pointed out.

"This mage will be a fine example of how cruel Qunari are, even to their own. But only if you play out just so. The passage here leads to warrens of the Undercity. It is dangerous, but that is why you were hired. Good luck."

Hawke made a mental note to be sure to give Aveline a full report later.

* * *

Ketojan followed them indifferently. They were almost out of the tunnel when a group of thugs accosted them.

"What the blazes is this? Looks like a walking armory." The leader of the thugs stepped forward. Hawke sighed. It appeared that despite that astute observation, these idiots were still going to attempt a shakedown. The thug walked towards him. "Look at this. Undercity's feared by all, but there's no shortage of fools with coin who want to test it." The thug looked over at Ketojan, and narrowed his eyes. "What is this thing, collared like a dog lord's bitch? You some sort of Qunari lover? Maybe I should get rid of you and see who'll pay the most for your pet."

Ketojan made a growling noise. One of the other thugs shook his head. "Uh, I don't think it likes you threatening its master. Maybe we let this one pass."

Hawke nodded. "Do everyone a favour and listen to your friend."

The leader of the thugs took another step forward, clearly trying to look menacing. "And let you lot make a holiday of the last free place in Kirkwall? Tax it up like even Lowtown?" He then drew his knife. "I'll cut up and save the biggest piece for your pet."

Merrill started to step forward, but before she or Hawke could react, Ketojan threw out a spell that sent the thugs flying backwards. And set the room on fire. The thugs started screaming. "By the Void! Kill it! Kill them all!"

Once the thugs were down, Hawke turned back to the Ketojan. "The danger has passed, Ketojan. Calm yourself!" Ketojan growled, but the fire around his hands died. Hawke blinked. "You did what I said. Did I hit the right phrase or something?"

Ketojan merely growled again. Hawke glanced at Fenris. Fenris shrugged. "He may not know, himself."

"You can't gesture or 'stomp your feet for yes' or something?"

Ketojan growled once again. "For we know, he's asking for a chamber pot?" said Varric.

Hawke had a strong feeling that he didn't need a chamber pot, but Varric. The Petrice has assumed much when the one she's trying to rescue doesn't talk and bury moves.

Hawke just shook his head. "Keep control, and a mother who is on your side." Ketojan growled in response. "Of course, I expected no different."

* * *

The tunnel led them out onto the coast. And right into a heavily armed group of qunari. A qunari in slightly different armour than the rest stepped forward. "You will hold, _basra vashedan_. I am Arvaarad, and I claim possession of Saarebas at your heel. The members of his _karataam_ were killed by Tal-Vashoth, but their disposal leads only here, to Saarebas and you."

Hawke rubbed his forehead. "I just got here, coming from the other way. If there was a trail, I did not leave it." He had a sneaking suspicion that Petrice had set them up.

"Yet you are here with Saarebas. This is a crime of freedom, his leash held by unknown _basra_. We will not allow that danger to continue. Let your own mages doom you—Saarebas will be properly confined."

It was definitely a setup. "And if he doesn't want to go back?"

"Saarebas! Show that your will remains bound to the Qun." Immediately Ketojan knelt and growled. Arvaarad gave Hawke a smug look. "He has only followed you because he wants to be led. He is allowed no other purpose."

Hawke tried to make sense of what was happening. He glanced at Ketojan. "The sister called him 'Ketojan.' You are Saarebas?"

"Saarebas is his role and his name, as you understand it. It is the accusation and acknowledgment of being a mage."

"And you are Arvaarad?" He feeling this was going to end in violence.

"My role is to hold the leash and hunt the grey ones who leave the Qun." Arvaarad narrowed his eyes and tried to look intimidating. Hawke had to admit it was far more effective for the Qunari than the thugs earlier. "Or bas who have not yet been enlightened."

"You don't care that someone abused your dead to get you here?"

"No doubt they were cast from your shoulders as you or your partner thieves grew weak. It is a crime whose victims are beyond caring. It will be dealt with, but the greater threat is clear. It is my role to secure Saarebas. It is the role of another to purge the perversions of your kind."

Hawke shook his head. "He is bound and abused, and you want him caged. Why?"

"The power that he has, that all Saarebas have, draws from chaos and demons. They can never be in control."

"So you fear them."

"Just like everyone," said Merrill shaking her head.

Arvaarad turned and glared at him. "We leash Saarebas because they are dangerous and contagious. Not even your templars fully grasp that threat."

To him it just sounded paranoia. "I wield the same power, and I am no danger to you unless I choose to be."

"I as well," said Merrill.

He knew instantly, by the way Arvaarad was backing away, that he had said the wrong thing. "You… are Saarebas? _Bas Saarebas_?" He then turned to his men. " _Vashedan! Nethraa sataa karasaam!_ " He then turned to Hawke with fury in his eyes. "You spew your words at me, like a demon trying to poison my control!" He then jested to Saarebas. "Like this mage, the Qun requires your death!"

Hawke shook his head. "But we're no threat to each other."

" _Bas Saarebas_! You will be no threat to know one!"

He then held out some sort of rot and pointed it at Saarebas and he fell to his hands and knees in pain.

Next second they were attacked by Arvaarad and his men. Fortunately, none of them had any templar training which men they had no abilities to negate both his and Merrill's magic power. Varric still on top the hill shooting bolts right into any of the Qunari that got anywhere close and Carver and Fenris engaged them.

The battle was ended when Hawke blasted a fireball directly at Arvaarad. He quickly ran up to Saarebas, who was groaning in pain.

"Can you stand?" he asked.

Saarebas only groaned gesturing to the rod near Arvaarad. Hawke got the idea instantly and grabbed it and broke it in half.

At once Saarebas got to his feet and rubbed his head and at we spoke, "I am… unbound. Odd… wrong… but you deserve honour. You are Basvaarad, worthy of following. I thank your intent, even if it was… wrong."

He then walked up towards the hill. "I know the will of Arvaarad. I must return as demanded. It is the will… of the Qun."

"So after all that, now you want to die?" said Hawke following him up the hill.

"I do not want to die, I want to live by the Qun."

Hawke shook his head. "Which means dying."

"Yes. Is that hard to grasp?"

"Could you have returned if I let these others live?" Hawke asked hopefully.

"No."

"You were doomed from the start?"

"I was outside my _karataam_ ," he explained. "I may be corrupted. I cannot know. How I return as my choice. It must be, but that does not mean there was no meaning."

Hawke looked to the others and they were just as bewildered as he was, but he knew that there was no convincing Saarebas and his job was to only get him outside the city.

"My job ended when we exited the city," he said. "The rest is up to you."

"You know certainty and borders," said Saarebas looking at him. "You are closer to the Qunari than you admit. Your role will change little if you accepted the Qun." He then handed Hawke a strange talisman. Take this thing, Basvaarad. Remember this day."

Then Saarebas uses magic to set himself ablaze and he fell to the ground the fires consumed his body."

"I just don't understand them," said Merrill. "Why would he throw his life away."

"It was determined from the start," said Hawke. "Petrice set a trail."

* * *

They walked back into the tunnel, heading for the safehouse. They found Petrice and Varnell in the process of stripping it. "Leave nothing. It must be clean with no ties. It…" Petrice turned to face him. "Well. My helpful associate from the streets. You… took the Qunari from the city? Without incident?"

She wasn't a very good liar and she was well too smug. "Don't be like that," said Merrill crossing her arms. "You know that we know."

"Mind your tongue, elf," Varnell snarled.

"Please. Speak your mind," said Petrice.

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "The bodies of the mage's _karataam_ led right to us. Why?"

Petrice narrowed her eyes at him. "You come back speaking their language and thing to lecture me? If such a plot exists, if the Qunari had murdered you trying to help their slave mage, then yes, somebody might have found that useful. It would have cast doubt on appeasement. Perhaps your death would have been a tragic necessity. Perhaps finding the mage was a rushed

Fanatics. Zealots on both sides. "I want no part of your little war. Pay me what I'm due."

She threw a pouch at him. "Take your coin. Disappear back into Lowtown. Rest assured I will not make the mistake of looking for help outside the faithful again. The stakes—eternity—are just too high."

Hawke hefted the pouch, then turned and left. "We'll be hearing from that one again," Fenris said.

He nodded. He also had a hunter the next time they meet it would be to prevent another such incident from happening.

* * *

It was probably a stupid idea, but he stopped into the Qunari compound to talk to the Arishok. "Why do you bother me, human? The dwarf paid you. There is no more." He gestured. "Your kind think selfishness and want are normal. This city, all of it, leaves a bad taste."

Hawke frowned. "If you despise this place, why haven't you left?"

The huge man was looking at him contemplatively. "Since we arrived I have seen nothing but greed and weakness. Dwarves, humans, elves—just… festering. No order, no goal. You are one of the few I have met with any ability. And yet this too was random, a result of selfishness." He spread his hands. "I cannot fathom how a mire like this can be justified." He shook his head. "You turned from me. Do you turn as easily from all this… chaos?"

On some levels, Hawke was in complete agreement. On others… he doubted his notion of utopia and the Arishok's were anything alike. "My welcome to the city was not so different from yours."

"And yet you suffer it."

"It's an opportunity to make a real difference."

In the past couple months, he'd wiped out three different groups of bandits. Four, if you counted the Flint Company. Five, maybe, if the Tal-Vashoth were… come to think of it, maybe the guard should be paying him a stipend.

"Karasten are soldiers. The Qun made it so. They can never vary from that assigned path, never be other than they are meant to be." The Arishok rose, and paced the area in front of his bench, gesturing at the other Qunari as he spoke. "But, they are free to choose within that role. To accept and succeed, or deny and die. Glory is clear and defined." He gestured as he paced. "Could you—could not this entire city—benefit from that certainty? How else will you know when you have made 'a real difference'?"

Hawke frowned. "He is free to choose to obey? This isn't contradicting to you?"

"He chooses to be. As do we all, long before any of your meaningless freedom are presented. I am not the one to educate you. I did not intend to land here. But the city may demand certainly. I suspect we are done human." The Arishok sat back down on his bench.

That was definitely a dismissal. They continue to talk more about the Qun and the more they talk the more contradictory it sounded. He said the Qun was not militarily, but it standard for order and discipline. Also found out that he only remained because of some demand by the Qun and wouldn't leave until that demand was met, which did not bode well. He then decided it was best to talk about the reason he came.

"I've had confrontations with others in your command."

"There have been a number of incidents, but you must mean Arvaarad, found dead after tracking Saarebas." The Arishok was clearly no fool. "I thought nothing could threaten Arvaarad."

"You are not angry?"

"A mage is dead. That is what matters. The rest is… impressive." The Arishok nodded to him. "But do not repeat it."

As long as the Qunari did not attack him, there would be no need to repeat it. Though considering the Qunari's attitude towards mages, he thought the odds of it not being repeated were a trifle slim. "I believe a member of the Chantry intended it to happen."

"Friend and enemy blend together in this sea of filth. I can barely discern one group from another." The Arishok gave him a considering look, and then, oddly enough, a respectful nod. "But as this clearly means something to you, I acknowledge the risk taken."

"Saarebas chose death over leaving the Qun."

"That is good to hear," the Arishok nodded.

"That is all you have to say?"

The Arishok narrowed his eyes at him. "I will not insult Saarebas with the suggestion that that making the right choice was difficult. I expect as much from every Qunari. I doubt Saarebas earned a greater honour in his life than my reaction now."

"Farewell."

"Panahedan, human."

* * *

"So the Champions dealings with the Qunari were the actions of a chantry sister," said Cassandra in disbelief.

"A zealot, I've seen the kind of damage they can do," said Leliana. "They always cause more harm than good and ending up killing good people, who just wish to prevent a war."

"We cannot be known for certain," said Cassandra.

"Then the only way we can be certain is to hear the rest of the tale."


	14. The Unbidden Rescue

Hawke has received a note from Meeran, saying that he wished to talk to him at night to discuss a possible job. He met Meeran bringing Carver, Aveline, Varric and Merrill.

"Well, if it ain't my favourite new citizens," Meeran smirked. "What are you doing here? Did you finally figure out being free and poor in Kirkwall ain't worth a rat's spit?"

"You have offer for me?" said Hawke crossing his arms.

"You mean you're not too good for my kind of work? Because the blokes I hired after you couldn't find their ass with both hands," he turned and looked down at the docks. "I sent them to take out Lord Harimann while he was preparing his cargo for shipping. Night-time, docks, simple. Never came back."

"I haven't heard a job in this yet," Hawke noticed.

"The jobs the same—kill Harimann—but there'll be a bonus if you find my men alive."

"I'm sure I can finish what they started."

"They were supposed to ambush him at the docks. That'd be the best place to start looking. And remember, Harimann dead, my lad Gustav alive. Other way around, then you won't get paid."

* * *

It was dawn when they reached the docks and they found several guards that had to be in the employment of Lord Harimann. Taking them down was a cinch and they found Gustav laying there.

"H-Hawke? I-I've seen you with Meeran before. Did he send you to get me?" Gustav asked clutching his arm. "Harimann's guards killed all my men. I thought I gave them the slip, but they found me. You tell Meeran I never turned on him."

"You were very dedicated," said Hawke and helped him up.

"We did it just like we trained. Followed at a distance, wait for nightfall…" Gustav shook his head. "His rear guard saw us coming. They fell on us from all sides."

"Which any professional should have expected," said a voice.

They turned and found a man in his sixties standing behind them.

"That's him. That's Lord Harimann," said Gustav.

"Most of my enemies would not stoop this low. Are you working for Conrad Tulli? Perhaps Lady Reinhardt?"

"What have you done to get so many people want you dead?" Hawke asked astounded.

Lord Harimann frowned at him. "You sound Ferelden. So you should know I'm the one who convinced the viscount to send aid to Denerim. Many of my fellow nobleman resent that. They want me dead before he sends the money, so that they can reclaim Kirkwall. Will you kill me for this?"

Hawke wouldn't. "This is not a job I can complete."

The two of them then shook hands.

"Thank you, Ferelden. When I learn who sent you, I will be sure to leave you out of any retribution."

Lord Harimann then walked away and Hawke turned his eyes upon Gustav.

"I-I don't want to be the one to tell Meeran you did that," he said before running off.

He returned to Meeran to claim his award and Gustav, true to his word, had not said anything about the incident with Lord Harimann. While he did not get as much money as he would have, he still got a bit from rescuing Gustav.

* * *

The next morning Hawke discovered a flyer requesting the aid of rescuing the viscount's son, Saemus. However, when he went up team to meet with Seneschal Bran he discover that someone else was on his trail.

He was talking to what he assumed to be a mercenary, who didn't have a very friendly face. In fact she looked as if she would kill you if you looked at her funny.

"Insist if you must, but Viscount Dumar will not see anyone!" said Bran. "If you have news of Saemus I will relay it to him."

"Fine," the woman snapped. "Tell Dumar my scouts have tracked the boy and his qunari captured to the Wounded Coast. I'm taking a full company after them, and when I return, I expect him to make a show of the reward."

"So many to deal with one qunari seems… excessive," said Bran raising an eyebrow.

"He maybe Tal-Vashoth. The Winters leave nothing to chance." She then walked off and nearly ran into Hawke. "I'll do my bloody way!"

Bran sighed when he saw Hawke. "Yes, what is it?"

"If this is about a rescue, that woman did not seem the type," Hawke noted.

Bran nodded. "She's the type I afraid we would attract. As I told the others, Viscount Dumar's son, Saemus, is missing. We suspect he was taken by Qunari. I have certainly granted no exclusivity to the Winters and their violent approach."

They went on talking about Saemous disappearance, Bran told them the boy was over sympathetic mind, and about the Winters violent nature.

"The boy will be home soon enough," said Hawke.

"Declare it if you like, but the Lord goes to whoever brings him back safe," said Bran. "A discussion you're welcome to have with the Winters should you encounter them. On the Wounded Coast."

* * *

Hawke along with Aveline, Carver, Merrill and Isabela searched around the Wounded Coast and they found Saemus on his knees in front of the body of a dead Qunari. The Winters leader, Ginnis, was standing over him with a sword in and covered in blood.

"And the world's rid of one more Qunari. Easier than I expected," she said smiling. She then looked to a man. "Call the men back. We've got an appointment with the viscount. Isn't that right, Saemus?"

"Ashaad… you killed him," he said weakly. "You… you _vashedan_ bitch!"

Hawke had a feeling this Saemus was going way over his head and naturally he was right. Ginnis threatened to cut out his tongue and when they stepped in she turned and fought them.

After the battle the young nobleman all but spat on her corpse. "Dead and good riddance but…" He glanced at them. "She said she was waiting for more. A lot more."

"Then we ready ourselves," Aveline said.

He loved it when she got all authoritative like that. Made him feel official. "Strip the camp, and we'll ready a fitting welcome."

As soon as the rest of the Winters started down the hill, he called up a lightning storm. The few that made it down met the blades of Carver, Isabela and Aveline. He called down fire on the other path and Merrill by a bolt of electricity.

"Oh Andraste, I've never seen so many corpses. So much blood." Seamus was looking a little green.

"We'll get through this. Hold on a little longer. There may be more coming." He gestured for the young man to get behind cover.

The next batch faired, if anything, slightly worse than the first batch. One man actually tripped over the body of one of his comrades and impaled himself on his own knife.

When it was done, he went to check on Seamus. He found the young man kneeling next to the the dead Qunari. "Ashaad never lied, never coddled. You were worth his time, or you were not." He rose, slowly. "They are not the brutes others claim they are. Take me to my father, and I will try again to make him see."

* * *

"Father…"

Years practically lifted off the Viscount's face as he saw his son. "My son. I thought I'd lost you."

"Enough, Father."

Seneschal Bran forestalled the oncoming argument. "Uh, allow me to present one Serah Hawke, Excellency. He fulfilled the bounty."

"You have my gratitude. I hope you encountered no great difficulties on my son's behalf."

"There were complications, but I am privileged to keep your son from harm."

"I was told the Winters had involved themselves. Was there no way to avoid an incident?"

Seamus stepped forward. "They murdered my friend. Where is the concern for that?"

"It was my understanding you were captured alone, foolishly traipsing about the coast as you do."

"I was not captured, I was with Ashaad. The Qunari. They are not monsters to be feared." Seamus gestured. "If you would just try to understand, others would see as well."

"Better that you were thought abducted than to have their influence suspected in my own family… benign or not, it's too much."

This was started to get awkward. "There is no middle ground?" said Hawke crossing his arms. "It sounds like you've both been hardheaded."

"That is… quite enough!" said Bran. He then looked towards the viscount. "My apologies, Excellently, for this intrusion into personal matters!" He gave Hawke his reward and gestured towards the door. "There is no… just… move!"

* * *

Afterwards Isabela left them and they met up with Fenris and Varric. They're wandering through the marketplace when they heard yelling.

"What you mean you can't help me?" said a man angrily to a city guard.

"This is a domestic matter, serah. If your wife has chosen to leave you, there's nothing we can do."

"Ninette is my wife! She's legally bound to me. Bring her back!" the man demanded.

"We're done here," said the guardsmen and he left with his men.

"Useless!" he spat. "Why are we still paying those sluggards?"

"Your wife is missing?" said Hawke. "I can try and find her if you like."

Man quickly turned to him with relief. "Yes! Oh, I've been waiting for someone to say that. That foolish woman has caused me nothing but embarrassment. She needs to be dragged home."

"I can't imagine why she would run away," said Fenris.

The man sighed. "Yes, yes, my wife and I don't get along. But that's not the important thing! Her family is getting suspicious. They think I might have… done something to her. Even if—Well, I just want to make sure they know I didn't do it!"

It figures that he would care more about himself than the safety of his wife. "You're more concerned what her family thinks than what happened to her?"

"Ninette keeps the company of other men and makes no secret of it. I'd be better off with her gone." He then sighed. "Well, as long as her family knows I had nothing to do with it. They'd ruin me otherwise."

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "You don't care that Ninette might be hurt or dead. You sicken me."

"You've never lived with her!" he spat back. He then shook his head. "It wasn't always like that. We were in love once. She defied her parents to marry me. Sometimes I wonder if I dream to those years."

"I'll try my best to find Ninette and bring home," Hawke assured.

"You should talk to Jethann at the Blooming Rose." He then clenched his fists. "I didn't know she visited whores. Until Jethann sent a letter. To our house! He even sent flowers once. Lilies—her favourite." He then flung his arms in frustration. "Bah. Talking about it makes my head hurt. Good luck to you, serah."

* * *

He went straight to the Blooming Rose and met Jethann and he informed them that a templar by the name of Emeric was also looking for Ninette. He also informed them that they could find the templar in Darktown

They found Emeric being set upon by thugs. Hawke sighed. It was probably too much to ask that the templar not notice the amount of spells being thrown around.

The man got back to his feet, and gave him a respectful nod. "I thank you, serah, for coming along when you did. I am Emeric."

Hawke gave him an appraising look. If he'd noticed the spells, he didn't seem to be inclined to try arresting him. Of course, the fact that Hawke was in the company of the Guard-Captain might have something to do with that. "Just the person I'm looking for, I need to speak with you about Ninette."

Emeric nodded. "Ah. Ghyslain de Carrac's wife, Ninette. Her disappearance interested me. I tried looking into it. However, the investigation has been a waste of time."

"Did you learn nothing?"

"Most people just say she left her husband. This all started when Mharen—one of our Circle mages—disappeared. I found it odd. She was a bit older and hardly adventurous. Then I heard about Ninette and two other missing women."

"I had a friend who disappeared once," Varric said. "Turns out he was under my bed, drunk." Varric glanced up at the looks they rest were giving him. "What?"

Emeric just shook his head. "I think the disappearances are connected, and I suspect foul play is involved."

Hawke frowned. "Doesn't the Circle use phylacteries to keep track of its mages?"

Emeric nodded. "We followed her phylactery to a foundry, but found nothing. I had heard of sympathisers smuggling mages through Darktown, so came here hoping to pick up the trail. But no trace of Mharen. And, as you've seen, asking the locals hasn't made me very popular."

"Mages routinely flee the Circle. Perhaps Mharen just wanted freedom?"

Emeric shook his head. "She had always been loyal. She received lilies from an unknown suitor, and some of us thought she may have gone to meet him. Perhaps her disappearance was linked."

Hawke remembered Ghyslain mentioning that Ninette had received lilies, it could have been a coincidence.

"Can I assist your investigation?" Hawke asked.

"It's no longer my investigation, serah," Emeric sighed. "You may take over, if you wish. This battle showed that I'm no longer the warrior I used to be. I know when to walk away." He met Hawke's eyes just briefly, and then handed him over small parcel. "Here. Take my findings. Perhaps you can make more use of them. I'm going back to the Gallows. I'm too old for this."

Hawke watched him go. "I think he might have noticed that me and Merrill are mages."

Aveline sighed, and nodded. "I think he may also have noticed you are trying to help."

"What a nice templar," said Merrill.

"We should go look into this foundry, then?"

* * *

They found the foundry and Hawke caught sight of someone slipping away. However, before he could apprehend him, they were attacked by demons. Shades and desire.

"Demons," Fenris said. "Summoned by another mage, no doubt"

"Look around," Hawke said.

A few minutes of searching revealed a bag, dropped by whoever had fled. Hawke glanced inside, and then recoiled. "Well… that's…"

"Bones. And a severed hand," Aveline said.

"We should take the ring to Ghyslain. It may be Ninette's. And let Emeric know what we found."

* * *

They met up with Emeric in the Gallows. "You might want to see this," said Hawke and handed him the remains. "This was left in the foundry you mentioned in your notes. I was also attacked by shades."

"These are human bones," said Emeric and sighed. "Then there is no chance of finding Mharen alive—or any of the others."

"I saw someone leave the scene, but they got away. I'm sorry."

"It was more than I accomplished."

"My people have been slow to react, but this needs official support," said Aveline.

Emeric nodded. "I will bring this to the city guard immediately. It should be enough to convince then the disappearances are worth investigating."

Jethann did not take news of Ninette's death well. It appeared he actually had been genuinely fond of the woman.

Ghyslain may have taken the news better. He even managed to speak of Ninette fondly. Hawke decided not to tell him the actual circumstances of his recovery of the ring.

* * *

"I've heard of this Kirkwall Killer," said Cassandra crossing her arms. "And now we know the Champion's link to the Viscount Dumar."

"Sadly both tales have a tragic ending," said Leliana. "Though I believe were getting off track."

"Indeed, I wonder how long the dwarf's tale true is."


	15. Act of Mercy

Hawke had received an anonymous letter from someone wanting assistance and was willing to provide some money.

Hawke went over to the Wounded Coast with Carver, Merrill, Isabela and Varric and there they found Thrask standing outside of the cave.

"Master Hawke," Thrask said. "Arianni tells me you sought a better path than the Circle for her son Feynriel." He hesitated a moment. "I thought perhaps you would be willing to show mages a kindness once more."

"Can I get the details before I agree?" Hawke asked.

"There are a number of apostates hiding in these caverns. I was hoping you might speak to the group, convince them to surrender peacefully before my fellow templars arrive."

"Who are these apostates? Where did they come from?"

"These are the mages of the former Circle at Starkhaven. It burned to the ground and their templars sent for us to relocate the survivors. Unfortunately, they escaped on the journey. With their phylacteries burned, it has been nearly impossible to track them."

He was beginning to see the problem. "Do the other templars intend to do worse than recapture the mages?"

Thrask sighed, then nodded. "Sir Karras is a knight-lieutenant of the templars, a great crony of Meredith. Should he find apostates hiding from pursuit, Meredith will consider him justified in murdering the lot of them."

A look over his shoulder caught nods from all three of his companions. He turned back to Thrask. "I would not like to see this become a massacre," he said.

"Thank you. Your compassion does you credit. These mages have shown they attack templars on sight. You have a better chance than I to convince them they are better off alive in the Circle than free and dead. Sir Karras hunts them as well. If they have not surrendered by the time he arrives, this will be a blood bath."

* * *

They hadn't gone far into the cave when an apostate caught sight of them. Almost immediately, the long dead corpses scattered around the cave got up and drew weapons. They quickly slaughtered the undead and approach the loan apostate.

"Maker's blessing! I thought I was going to die down here in this… this tomb." The young man was clearly terrified. Though Hawke could not blame him. "Are you with the templars? Please, I need to go back to the Circle. I never wanted to get involved in this." He shuddered. "Not when he started making those… those things."

"Who is 'he'?"

"Decimus… it was his decision. He kept saying the templars would label us blood mages if we fled—why not use it if it's our best tool?" He shuddered again. "He slit his wrist, and the magic… it rose from the blood and woke the skeletons in the cave." He gestured. "I ran. Decimus is wrong—blood magic is a work of evil, not just a power the templars keep from us for spite."

Blood mages. It was never a good day when the templars were the reasonable ones. "Decimus is the leader of these mages?"

"He's crazy. He said, with our phylacteries gone, no one could find us. We would be free… I think maybe he set the fire. There must be a demon working through him. No normal man would profane the dead like this."

"The templar Thrask is waiting outside," said Hawke. "Surrender to him and you won't be hurt."

"I surrender. Take me to the templars! I don't want anything to do with this… blood magic." He gestured at the path he'd run down. "The rest of them, they're still following Decimus. He's gone mad. I think he'd kill us all just to take the templars down."

The young mage then ran down the tunnels.

* * *

Deeper in the tunnels, the mages were engaged in a work of ritual magic. A bearded man was directing the others. He let the spell die when he saw Hawke and his companions enter. "They're here! The templars have come to take us back to the circle."

Hawke raised a disbelieving eyebrow and glanced at his companions. How insane did one have to be to mistake the four of them for templars? Two of them were carrying staffs. A tattooed woman apparently agreed with his assessment. "Decimus, no. Stay your hand. These are no templars."

"What do I care what shield they carry? If they challenge us, the dead themselves will meet the call."

Hawke shook his head and raised his staff and called down a firestorm as the corpses began to rise.

Only a few of the mages joined the fray. It was apparently clear that they were all mad so we didn't feel sorry about killing any of them.

The tattooed woman knelt next to Decimus's corpse. "You killed him. Oh, Decimus, you should have listened to me, love…" She glared up at him. "I saw what you are. How could you murder one of your own just for daring to defy the templars."

It wasn't like the man gave and much choice. "I do not need to be a part of the Circle to know blood magic is unnatural," said Hawke narrowing his eyes.

"I warned him. I told him, once he marked himself as a blood mage, that was all anyone would see." She stood. "Please… we only want our freedom. Without your help, the templars will execute all of us for Decimus's crimes."

He looked up, and saw dozens of desperate faces looking back at him. Merrill was watching him with huge eyes. "If not in the Circle, how do you intend to live?"

"I hear there are places, outside the Free Marches, where the templars are not so vigilant."

"You followed him," Hawke pointed out. "You should all face punishment."

The woman now her eyes. "If you try to turn us in, do not think your own talents will go unremarked. Do not doubt the templars letter extra apostate share our punishment."

"These are blood mages, not like you are Bethany. And what do you think happened to resort killing templars?" Carver whispered.

Her face was desperate. "Will you buy us time to flee Kirkwall?"

Thrask was considerably more innocent than these mages. "Leave it to me. By the time I'm done, these templars will swear the sky is green." He and Thrask would think of something.

"Your confidence almost makes me believe you…" She sighed. "But I spent two weeks traveling with these templars. They strike first and think after. They are far easier to kill than to fool."

* * *

The rest of the templars had arrived. That… complicated matters. A man he assumed to be Sir Karras was glaring at Thrask. "Are you trying to tell me this boy is all that's left of the apostates?"

"I ran away when they began to use blood magic, ser."

"They are not in the caverns, Sir Karras." Thrask was already trying to save the people who'd suggested killing him. "I have thoroughly explored—"

Sir Karras noticed Hawke as they emerge from the caverns. "Who is this?"

Hawke sighed, and then glanced at Varric. "Tell him who we are."

"What's the trouble, Sir Thrask?" Varric kept his voice casual. "Did the knight-commander forget to tell Sir Karras that Enchanter Hawke came from Ferelden to help her root out rebel mages?"

Thrask blinked, and then began to nod. "Uh, yes. Yes, I was just about to tell him."

"We've completed our investigation of the mages in those caverns." Varric shrugged. "There is no one left inside."

Hawke nodded. "The apostates resorted to blood magic and end up turning on each other."

"Their leader fled the battlefield ahead of us," Varric said. "Bloody coward left his own people to die. I caught only a glimpse, but it looked like the back passaged led out to the back passages led out to the coast. I sent your men that way."

Thrask turned to Karras. "We can still catch up if we go around the caverns. That's the faster route."

Judging from the look on Karras' face he bought it. "The coast, you say? Men, fan out, search the short. We will retrieve these corpses later." He actually bowed towards Hawke. "I will commend you to the knight-commander, Enchanter Hawke. It is rare to see a mage cooperate with the authorities."

Thrask waited until Karras was out of earshot. "Thank you, my friend."

Hawke nodded, and watched him go. Once it was safe woman appeared out of the cave. "I didn't think you could do it. Truly you must be able to charm a miser out of his last coin." She was staring at them. "I did not think any of us would leave those caverns alive."

"If it makes you feel better, officially you were 'killed during escape.'" He'd buy Thrask a drink later.

"I will do my best to seem cold and rotted, then." She held out her staff. "Please, accept my staff as a reward. It has the mark of Starkhaven on it—I dare not carry it now." She smiled. "It has served me well." She gestured for the other mages to follow her. "Now, we must flee as far as we can before nightfall. Thank you, friend."

"Glad that's over," said Carver and looked to his brother. "So do we have enough coin for Bartrand now?"

Hawke counted the amount of coin they had and added it with the amount Thrask had given him. "We've got enough."

* * *

They soon returned to Bartrand, who was his cheerful self.

"Varric!" Bartrand glared at him. "Where did you get off to? And what are you planning."

"Bartrand. So suspicious. I have, in fact, brought us our future partner." He gestured at Hawke.

Bartrand reaction was exactly as Varric in visions. "What? Partner! You stupid, nug-humping dirt-farmer. Why did you go promising something like that?"

"Because if we don't get this expedition moving, Brother, then we won't have any profits to argue about, will we?"

Bartrand glared, but relented. "Hmph. Maybe you have a point."

"There's so much love here," Hawke said. "It's very comforting." Varric tried not to smirk.

"What I'd love is the coin to back up my brother's confidence. How about it, human?"

"I do have your coin, in fact." Hawke gestured at his little brother, and Junior handed over the coin purse.

"You're joking." Bartrand poured the coin out in his hand and just stared at it.

Varric was unsuccessful at trying not to smirk. "What did I tell you, Bartrand? Not bad for a human."

"All right, partner. Full share of the profit between you, me, and Varric." Bartrand held out his hand, and Hawke shook. "Now we just need a decent entrance into the Deep Roads."

Hawke handed over the maps. "These might be just what we need."

Bartrand spread the maps out. "What's this?" The look on his face was great. "Three… four entrances into the Deep Roads, all in the Free Marches? Where did you get these?"

"A wizard did it." Varric almost started to laugh at Blondie's deadpan response.

"Well, colour me astounded. We just pick the most promising one and go." Bartrand nodded to Hawke. "Time to wrap up any business you have in the city, my friend. We'll be gone for several weeks at least." He started to walk away. "Let me know as soon as you're ready, and we'll head out."

* * *

Hawke wandered around as he waited for the others to arrive as he passed a couple of dwarven merchants one of them walked up and shook his hand.

"Ah! So you are the new partner? A pleasure to meet you!" he said. "Bodahn Feddic, purveyor of goods both common and rare, at your service!" He then moved over to a boy next to him. "And this is my son, Sandal, who is as brilliant an enchanter as you'll ever find! Say hello to the nice human, Sandal."

"Hello," he said dumbly.

It was clear that Sandal wasn't the brightest tool in the shed.

"We shall be accompanying your expedition and providing the needed supplies. It's all quite exciting, isn't it?" said Bodahn.

"You aren't worried about venturing into such a dangerous place?" Hawke asked.

"Not with such fine protection!" Bodahn smiled. "But I digress. Do you wish to peruse my wares? Or perhaps make use of Sandal's unique talents?"

"Entrapment?" Sandal said happily.

"Just so."

Hawke frowned. "You two don't seen the sort to hire onto this sort of expedition."

"My son and I have never played it safe, never kept to the tried and true roads. In fact, we have just returned from adventures while accompanying the Hero of Ferelden—legendary Grey Warden and vanquisher of the Blight along with the other wardens!"

Hawke was slightly surprised, he knew his cousin. "So you helped defeat the Blight?"

Bodahn waved his hand precariously. "In our small way, perhaps. We do not find at the Grey Wardens' side, of course! The Hero Ferelden is a fine man along with the other Wardens. He and the warden mage adventured off to find ways to combat the Blight. As well you know one of them became the Queen of Ferelden and another became the first Elven Bann, imagine it the first Elven nobles since the Dales. And as for the two Paragons they are still fighting Darkspawn as new commanders. After all their accomplishments may they find even greater success."

* * *

Aveline new duties as guard captain prevented her from leaving with them and Isabela was having too much fun in Kirkwall, though her type of fun was deeply disturbing and frightening. He decided to both bring Merrill and Anders along since a few weeks of the city was probably not a bad idea.

Fenris was coming, that was a given. That would give Carver another sword to back him up. Two swords, three staffs, and Varric's crossbow… that should be able to take care of most trouble.

"We've chosen one of the hidden entrances. The Deep Roads there will be nice and virginal, ready for a good deflowering."

Varric and Hawke both covered their faces at Bartrand's words. "Now there's an interesting image," Varric said.

Bartrand continued his speech. "It'll take a week for us to get to the depth we need, and there are bound to be leftover darkspawn from the Blight." He gestured excitedly. "Big risks, big rewards."

"Risks, rewards—what could be better?" Hawke grinned and elbowed Varric.

"Exactly," Bartrand said. "Now, before we… wait. Who invited the old woman?"

Varric glanced to the side and saw Leandra. He heard Hawke sigh. "I'm sorry to interrupt, sir dwarf, but I need to speak with my children."

He watched Hawke gesture to Junior, then shamelessly took up a position close enough to eavesdrop. Hawke was shaking his head. "Mother, no. We talked about how important this is."

Leandra sighed. "I just want to know one thing: are you planning on taking Carver with you?"

"I can't leave Carver behind. I need him." Varric saw tears begin to well in Leandra's eyes at Hawke's response. He really wasn't envying his friend at the moment. He'd helped Hawke make the arrangements regarding the Bone Pit. Even if something did happen, Leandra would have enough funds to get by.

"I'm going. It'll be fine." Junior stepped up a bit to back up his brother against Leandra's tears.

"It's not fine. You can't both go. What if something were to happen to you?" She poked Hawke in the chest. "You I understand wanting to do this. But leave your brother here, I beg you."

Junior stepped forward a bit more. "I said I'm going. Besides, if we're so bloody afraid of templars, I should go and he should hide."

"Carver, I beg you. Don't go. Don't do this." Leandra clutched at her youngest son's arm.

"Don't worry about me so. I can take care of myself, you'll see." Junior tried to reassure her.

Varric saw Aveline wandering by, no doubt on her patrol, and could see the drama that was being played out. He gestured, and pointed to Leandra. Aveline nodded. As soon as the Hawke brothers had disentangled themselves from Leandra, Aveline stepped forward and gently drew her aside. He knew she'd make sure Leandra got home safely.

"Personal drama over with?" said Bartrand. He was certainly all heart. "Then let's get underway."

"Been a long time coming, eh, Brother?" said Varric.

"But it has. The Deep Roads await!"

They then began to move out, but no one ever expected what would happen the moment they would step foot in the Deep Roads. They could never imagine of the horrors that await and what fate awaited them.


	16. The Deep Roads Expedition

"No, this can't be right," said the Seeker as she shook her head and gestured sharply. "The Champion was an apostate who came to Kirkwall to spread subversion against the Chantry." She glared at Varric. "But you claim this wasn't the case. The Champion just happened to have dealings with the Qunari, joined forces with a known raider, a blood mage, a rebel Warden… and for what? Coin?"

Varric leaned back. "Maybe it's not as simple as you imagine, Seeker."

"Simple?" The Seeker's eyes narrowed. "Do I need to remind you what your friends did?" She stepped forward. "Do I need to tell you how many lives have been lost, how many more will be lost?" She clenched her fists. "You cannot sit there and tell me he is innocent."

"I don't know if _innocent_ is the right word, exactly…"

The Seeker cut Varric off. "He must have known. Somehow, the Champion knew what was down there. That's why he wanted to join your expedition."

The dwarf shook his head. "No. None of us knew. If we had…" Sorrow came over the dwarf's features. "He wouldn't have let his brother step foot into that blighted hole."

She folded her arms. "Is that so? Then tell me your version of what happened on this expedition."

He leaned forward again. "Well, we entered the Deep Roads as planned, but we didn't get very far…"

* * *

They have been walking what felt like days, but it was hard to tell since they were underground. Suddenly one of the scouts came running back. "There's been a collapse—the way forward is blocked."

Bartrand's face was furious. "What? Is there some way around?"

The scout shook his head. "Not that I've been able to find. The side passages are too dangerous."

"Useless." Bartrand's response to that news was to punch the scout in the face. "What am I paying you blighters for?" He gestured angrily. "Set camp."

Varric elbowed Hawke, and the two walked towards Bartrand. "Problems, Brother?"

Bartrand kicked at a rock. "Sodding Deep Roads. Who knows how long it'll take to clear the path?"

"Shall we not try to find a way round, instead? Seems like the logical choice."

"You think I'm an idiot, Varric?" Really, Bartrand should know better than to ask him a question like that. "The scouts say the side passages are too dangerous."

Hawke just shook his head. "See? This is why your bring someone like me along."

Varric smirked. "We'll take a look. If we come running back, screaming, you'll know staying put was the right decision."

"Fine. Fine." Bartrand waved his hands. "Find a way around. Just do it quickly."

* * *

He and Hawke were on their way to collect the rest of their entourage when Bodhan stopped them. "Uh… I hate to add to your burdens, my friends, but I fear I must." Bodhan's face looked fearful. "I fear my boy, Sandal, wandered off. He's somewhere in those side passages, right now. I beg you, keep an eye out for him. He just… doesn't understand danger like he should."

Hawke nodded. "We need to search the side passages. We'll bring him back, we can."

Bodhan looked relieved. "Poor Sandal. I can't believe he's done this."

"Let's move quickly, then."

"This is why I left the Wardens," Anders muttered as they walked towards the side passage. "I hate the blighted Deep Roads."

* * *

Anders' warning that darkspawn were approaching was almost a trifle unnecessary. He, Hawke and Merrill sent out fireballs, taking out as many darkspawn as they could before the blighted beasts reached the warriors. They'd gone through three groups of spawn and a group of giant giant spiders when Varric suddenly started shaking his head. "Well, I'll be a nug's uncle. Isn't that Bodahn's boy?"

The blond haired dwarf was standing in a group of dead darkspawn, scratching his ass as he looked out over some ruins. He turned at the sound of Varric's voice. "Hello."

Carver laughed. "It is. The great warrior stands victorious."

"Are you injured?" Hawke asked, walking towards Sandal. The boy appeared to be uninjured. He then looked at the darkspawn corpses around him. "How did you do this!"

"Boom." Sandal held out a rune.

Hawke blinked, and took it. He glanced to his right, where the ogre was frozen in place. "And how did you do that?"

"Not enchantment," Sandal said. He walked past them, heading back towards the camp.

Varric just shook his head. "Smart boy." He shrugged. "Come on. We still need to find a way past that collapse."

* * *

Varric had a running bet going with Anders as to who could kill more darkspawn, Fenris or Junior. A moment later, he got a running bet going with Junior over who could kill more darkspawn, Blondie or Hawke. So far, the Hawke boys were winning. Junior had a slim lead over Fenris, but Hawke was more than making up for it. Daisy on the other hand was at the bottom of the barrel though she did not seem interested about this bet.

He watched the combatants as he took pot shots. Fenris might be doing a little better if he ever got more than a dozen feet from Hawke. Blondie had to resort to hitting a couple spawn with his staff, but in the several battles they had not a single darkspawn got within spitting distance of their other mages.

It was a bit of a disconcerting experience disarming traps while his companions played tag with an ogre. Hawke put a swath of ice under the beast's feet, and instead of its charging towards Junior, the beast hit the wall and got its horns stuck. However, it soon freed itself and probably would have squash them all if Merrill hadn't blasted it with her bolt of electricity.

The dragon proved a bit more difficult. Hawke managed to slow the dragon while Blondie used his own magic to make the rest of them move faster. Junior got the killing blow, and was positively ecstatic about it. He was going to be very difficult to live with for the next few days.

"Ah, here we go." Varric glanced down the corridor. "This goes right where we want it to." He glanced at the others. "Let's go back and tell Bartrand. He'll be so pleased."

* * *

The first sight of the thaig took their breath away. The earlier deep roads had all been uniform. These… half the angles and lines didn't seem to add up. Hawke found himself feeling a bit dizzy just trying to follow some of the geometry.

"Holy shit," Varric said. The man did have a way with words.

"Is this what you were expecting?" Hawke asked Bartrand.

The dwarf shook his head. "I thought… an abandoned thaig, something old, but… what is this?"

"How do you even know it was here?"

"Old scavenger tales. After the Third Blight. A week below the surface, they said, but nobody believed them…"

"Looks like they were right," said Varric in awe.

"Make camp here! We need to look around," Bartrand ordered.

Bartrand then began to study the thaig with a complexed face. "I don't get it. Nothing in this thaig makes sense."

"Why's that?" Hawke asked.

"We're well below the Deep Roads. Whatever dwarves lived here, they came long before the First Blight. But without the statues of the Paragons? I don't recognise these markings on the wall or anything in the rubble."

Hawke shrugged. "Who knows how all these ruins are? Maybe your people were different back then."

Bartrand quickly turned on him. "I know enough about our history to know we haven't changed much. Dwarves have been mired in tradition for many ages." He then looked at one of the columns. "These dwarves might have been unique. If so, I hope they kept their valuables close at hand."

* * *

Hawke then decided to checked in on Sandal. Bodhan's gratitude was effusive, despite Hawke repeatedly assuring him that no thanks were necessary. Sandal was an oddly sweet and a sweetly odd boy.

He noticed Merrill was looking slightly uneasy. "Are you all right?"

"I've just… never seen anything like it," said Merrill. "Being down here I can see why the Grey Wardens exists, they care nothing for history and would destroy anything and everything."

"Not scared of darkspawn?"

"I've fought them before, but it wasn't happy day."

Hawke decided to leave her be and went up to Varric, who were looking for the nearest passages.

* * *

"Hmm…" Varric looked around. "Whatever's through there, it seems still intact. Think we'll find anything?"

"Bartrand is far more enthralled with this place than you are."

Varric shrugged. "Unlike him, I wasn't born in Orzammar. I wouldn't even be down here if there wasn't profit in it." He sighed. "This entire place gives me the chills. Let's hope it's worth it."

"Whatever we find, it might not be pleasant," said Hawke.

He had to admit that Hawke had a point. "Hmph. I suppose we'll need to go down there to find out?"

* * *

They had to clear out a few demons and a golem before they could actually make their way into the thaig. The first room contained some kind of altar or table in the middle, up on an elevated platform. Something on top was glowing.

Varric stared as they approached. "You see what I'm seeing?"

Hawke could almost feel the energy radiating from the thing. He looked at it through the veil of magic, and saw it shimmer in response. "Is that… lyrium?"

Anders nodded. "It's definitely magic. And not the good kind."

"Doesn't look like any kind of lyrium I've ever seen," Varric said. Hawke had to agree. It was glowing red, rather than the normal soft blue. And it felt… hungry. Varric glanced back over his shoulder and saw Bartrand wandering in. "Look at this, Bartrand. An idol made out of pure lyrium, I think. Could be worth a fortune."

Bartrand let out a low whistle. "You could be right. Excellent find."

Hawke picked up the idol he felt some strange sort of presence within it. Maybe it was just that he was a mage, but the idol felt… off. "Not bad." Varric said as Hawke ended in the idol. "We'll take a look around, see if there's anything further in."

Varric then tossed it to Bartrand, who gave it a hungry look. "You do that."

Something in Bartrand's voice made Hawke turn towards him. He saw the door starting to close. "The door!"

It shut before they could reach it. Hawke began looking around, but saw no way to open it from their side. Varric hit the door. "Bartrand," Varric yelled. "It's shut behind you."

"You always did notice everything, Varric." They heard Bartrand's voice shout back.

"Are you joking? You're going to screw over your own brother for a lousy idol?" Varric kicked the door.

"It's not just the idol. The location of this thaig alone is worth a fortune, and I'm not splitting that three ways." Bartrand's voice sounded smug. "Sorry, Brother."

"Bartrand. Bartrand." Varric continued shouting until Hawke pulled him away from the door. "I swear, I will find that son of a bitch—sorry, Mother—and I will kill him." He sighed. "Let's hope there's a way out of here."

* * *

They had to fight their way through several groups of demons. Hawke sighed as he let Anders weave a healing spell over him. While Fenris and Carver had been dealing with a golem, more demons had manifested behind the mages. Merrill protected them by creating a barrier spell.

Varric busied himself looting the place. Hawke watching him with a look of concern. His friend was clearly pissed off, but the constant fighting did seem to be taking a bit of the edge off for him. Hawke rose, and stretched before going to help with the looting.

They had nearly dispatched another group of shades when a voice interrupted them. "Enough." The voice was deep, oddly resonate, and echoed through the chamber. In response to the sound, the shades immediately flowed backwards, ceasing hostilities. Hawke turned to where rocks were slowly coming together to create a form. The effect was… disconcerting, to say the least. It spoke again as it took a step towards them. "You have proven your mettle. I would not see these creatures harmed without need."

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "I'd say being attacked on sight gives us plenty of need."

"They will not assault you further, not without my permission."

"What are these things? They seem like rock wraiths, but…" Varric shook his head.

"They hunger," the stone creature responded. "The profane have lingered in this place for ages byond memory, feeding on the magic stones until the need is all they know."

"The lyrium?" Hawke looked around. The lyrium in this place was odd. "That's what sustains them?"

"I am not as they are. I am…" The creature shifted slightly. "A visitor."

"It seems mostly interested in their hunger," Anders said. "It's a demon, come to feed."

"I would not see my feast end." The balls of light that seemed to serve as the being's eyes narrowed slightly, and apparently focused on Hawke. "I sense your desire. You seek to leave this place, but you will need my aid to do so."

"Don't do it," Anders said. "Demons will trip you up every time."

"Could be a way out of here, I don't know…" Carver shook his head. They must be desperate if Carver suggested dealing with a demon.

"What are our options?" Varric asked.

Hawke drew his staff. "We're not dealing with a demon."

"Most unwise," the demon said as it and the shades moved in to attack.

They soon attacked by demons and shades, but thankfully they were able to hold their own and vanquish them. Hawke had no idea how they became so powerful, he assumed it had something to do with the lyrium in the thaig. It was certainly, which gave Hawke a bad feeling.

* * *

"What is this place?" Hawke asked as the architecture around them changed somewhat.

"This is the vault," Varric replied. "The dwarves would have brought their…" He trailed off as the sound of stone scraping came from behind them.

Slowly, Varric and Hawke both turned around. Stones were tumbling into a pile of their own accord. A moment later, the stone began to rise, becoming a much larger version of the profane they'd fought earlier except it was glowing red.

"Oh." Varric said. "That can't be good."

Several of the smaller versions began to move towards them as the larger one suddenly gave off a wave of energy. It seemed to burn. Hawke grabbed Fenris and yanked the elf behind cover as he gestured for his brother to do the same. Carver nodded, and hauled Varric to safety. Merrill ducked in with Hawke and Fenris while Anders hid with Carver and Varric. As soon as the wave of energy passed, Hawke called up lightning, trying to pin the profane in place for the warriors before focusing his attention on the massive creature.

He was nearly exhausted before he saw a waver in the thing's magic. He called up almost all the energy he had left, then hit it. The creature exploded, and only the barrier Anders threw up kept him from getting hit by bits of rock.

Merrill helped him back to his feet, and gave him a worried look. Hawke assured the elf he was fine, and then downed a potion to restore some of his lost energy.

"The rock wraiths are supposed to be dwarven legends." Varric was shaking his head. "They're not even supposed to be real."

"Looked pretty real to me," said Hawke. Felt pretty real as well judging from the bruises on his arm.

"I suppose it doesn't matter." Varric's voice became excited. "Look at what it was guarding."

They turned round the corner and found a massive pile of gold and jewels. It was clear that it was dwarven of some unknown make, it had to be worth a fortune.

"Let's see if there's something that can help us get out of here," said Hawke began to search through the treasure. He found the key quickly, and then with Varric's help, began picking out the best pieces, loading each of them up with as much as they could carry safely.

* * *

They hadn't gone far when Varric smiled. "Hmm… I'd say this is our way back."

Hawke had to agree. The architecture around them was starting to look… well, as normal as the Deep Roads could look, anyway. "How long to get back?"

"If we're unlucky, maybe a week."

"And if we're lucky?"

"We stumble over Bartrand's corpse on the way." Varric started moving and Hawke merely laughed as they followed him.

* * *

They found the dead dragon right where they'd left it.

"This part of the Deep Roads look familiar," Hawke noted.

"We're back where we started, and in only five days. Not bad, eh?"

"Think we could…" Carver's voice was odd. "Take a break? I feel… wrong."

"Let's make camp if you're sick," said Hawke.

They were forced to eat deep mushroom and deep stalker and they don't exactly have a pleasant taste.

"I'll wager it was those deep mushrooms we found," Varric said.

"No, it's…" Carver trailed off as he fell to the ground.

"Carver!" Hawke ran to his brother's side. He looked up at Anders.

Anders gave him horrified look. "It's the blight. I can sense it."

"Just like that templar, Wesley. I'll be just as dead, just as gone."

"There must be some other way!" said Hawke desperately, he couldn't save Bethany but he was determined to save Carver.

Carver's face was bleak. "I'm not going to make it. Not to the surface, not anywhere. It's getting worse."

"There might be something we can do," Anders said. He knelt next to Hawke. "I stole the maps from a Warden that had come to Kirkwall. I wanted to know if he was looking for me. He wasn't. The maps were for planning their own expedition into the Deep Roads."

Hawke cradled his brother's head and looked at him hopefully. "Does that mean Grey Wardens are here?"

"If the Wardens are here, I know where. We could bring Carver to them…"

Carver looked up at the mage. "And, what? Become a Grey Warden?"

"Is this even possible?" Hawke asked. If Anders was trying to give them false hope, he was going to throw the man off the next cliff they came to. "How does someone become a Grey Warden?"

"I can't tell you. But it's not something you can undo once it's done… even if you want to."

Carver managed to sit up. "This just keeps sounding better and better…"

"They might agree to it, however. That's if we can find them in time."

Hawke got his brother back to his feet. "Is becoming a Grey Warden a cure?"

"Yes," Anders said. "I suppose it is." He sighed. "But it's not without a price—and not one everyone is willing to pay."

"What price?" Hawke felt his fists starting to clench. "Maker's breath, spit it out." His brother was dying, and the man was dissembling.

"The process of becoming a Warden is… unpleasant. And irreversible. It also means you might never see your brother again. He might survive the blight, but at the cost of becoming a Grey Warden. It's not an easy life. Trust me."

"What about you? You're not a Grey Warden anymore?" If Anders could run, so could Carver. And if the Wardens tried to take him back…

"You think I got away? Eventually they or the Circle will drag me back. I've got no illusions about that."

Hawke sighed, and looked at Carver. "If there's even a chance, we must take it." He should have listened to their mother, and left Carver behind.

"Then I hope I'm right," Anders said.

* * *

Anders, Hawke, and Fenris took turns all but carrying Carver. As they walked Hawke could not help but notice Merrill's face as if she had witnessed something like this before, he then remembered Merrill had told them that one of her friends got tainted by the blight and had to be taken away by a Grey Warden.

They walked on before what felt like hours and then they found the Wardens fighting against darkspawn and instantly went to help.

Once the fighting was done the leader of the Wardens narrowed his eyes. He was in his forties with black hair and had a very thick moustache.

"Anders."

"Fancy meeting you here, Stroud."

"I could say the same. I thought you were through fighting darkspawn?" Stroud folded his arms.

"I'm not here to fight darkspawn. I came looking for you." Anders gestured at Carver.

"You…" Stroud began to shake his head. "Mean the boy as a recruit. Of course you do." Stroud turned towards them. "I'm sorry. I know this comes as no comfort to you, but we do not recruit Grey Wardens out of pity. It is no kindness."

"Carver happens to be a fine warrior. You'd be an idiot not to recruit him," said Hawke forcibly.

"Be that as it may, I cannot."

Anders stepped forward before Hawke could say anything. "Stroud, trust me when I say this one is worth your time. With the Blight over, you Wardens don't have recruits lining up."

"This is no simple thing, Anders. This may be as much a death sentence as the sickness, and you know it." Stroud's voice actually held a note of compassion.

"He'll die anyway. Take him and try… I'm asking you."

Stroud stared a moment, then nodded. "If the boy comes, he comes now, and you may not see him again. Being a Grey Warden is not a cure. It is a calling."

"Are you sure about this?" Carver asked.

Hawke closes eyes. "I wish it hadn't worked out this way."

"We must move quickly if we are to make the surface in time."

"Then…" Carver managed a smile. "I guess this is it. Take care of Mother."

Hawke allowed the Wardens take Carver from him. He stood there a moment, watching them take his brother away. First Bethany and now… He turned, and wordlessly continued back down their path. He was only dimly aware of the others falling into step with him.

* * *

"Home, sweet home," Varric said when they reached the gates of Kirkwall. "Finally." He glanced over at his friend. He wasn't used to a silent Hawke. "I wonder if Bartrand came back to the city. You think I'd be that lucky?"

"Revenge is the most pressing thing on my mind right now."

"I know," Varric nodded. He wished he knew what to say. Words didn't fail him often. "I'm… sorry about what happened to your brother." And his own brother had been responsible.

"He'll make it," Anders offered. "Carver's stronger than he thinks."

"I should have seen Bartrand's betrayal coming." Varric punched the wall as they entered the city. "I'll find that maggot if it's the last thing I do." He glanced up at Hawke. "I imagine you'll be heading home to… tell the family."

"I don't have much choice."

"You'll be a wealthy man, Hawke. It wasn't all for nothing." Varric sighed. He was fairly sure his friend would throw every scrap of loot they'd carried out of that thaig to get his brother back.

* * *

One by one they all left until it was only he and Merrill remaining. She gave him a sympathetic look as they walked down towards Lowtown, until finally she had to speak.

"About your Brother… oh, Hawke, I'm so sorry," she said. "One of my clan got the corruption. Back in Ferelden. The Wardens took him from us, and I never saw him again. But the cure worked."

Hawke frowned. "If this elf never returned, how do you know the Wardens' cure worked?"

"You must have heard the story: A Dalish Grey Warden slaying the Archdemon at Denerim. That was him." Hawke turned and stared at her, the Hero of Ferelden came from her clan? She then sighed. "My clan has heard nothing from him since then. Not very encouraging, I suppose. Forget I mentioned it. Everything will be fine."

Hawke knew she was just trying to cheer him up and he smiled at her. But the fact of the matter was Carver and Bethany had been his responsibility. And he'd failed them both.

"Thank you, Merrill. I hope you're right," he said.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure everything will turn out well."

She then headed back down towards the alienage when they reached his neighbourhood. He stood outside the door for almost a full minute before he could make himself open it. Leandra turned towards him immediately. "Oh, my baby! You made it home!" He saw her face start to fall. "Carver isn't with you?"

"No."

"Is he… coming back?"

"I don't know."

Leandra fell to her knees and started to sob. Hawke knelt on one side of her as Gamlen went to the other.


	17. Blackpowder Courtesy

"So the Champion's brother was a Grey Warden," said the Seeker.

"Yes, but that's not the connection you're looking for." Varric gestured.

"Isn't it? The involvement of the Grey Wardens makes perfect sense. And the Champions' companions? Merrill, Aveline, Isabela… and that Warden, Anders?"

Varric actually hung his head. "Don't remind me. I introduced them."

"We thought they all came from Ferelden together, but now it makes sense. Motive and opportunity."

"It's still not what you think," Varric said.

"Then I need to hear more."

"Unless you've already decided. I can always go if you don't need me anymore…" Varric gave her a hopeful look.

"Tell me what came next."

Varric sighed, he expected as much.

* * *

" _The treasure we found in the Deep Roads made us a fortune. The Champion moved up in the world. Literally. Bought a mansion in Hightown. Everyone knew who he was now. Even the viscount was taking notice. The Grey Wardens left Kirkwall. It was months before we learned Carver survived. Three years later, the Qunari still hadn't left. The Qunari insisted they were waiting for their ship. But some of us knew better…_ "

* * *

Hawke had received a letter from the viscount requesting his presence. He made his way over to the keep and towards the viscount's office. Inside the Viscount was talking to Seneschal Bran. "The compound was not meant to be permanent. There are concerns the Qunari influence is… no longer contained," Seneschal Bran was saying.

Viscount Dumar looked up from his desk. "Was it ever? Kirkwall has tension enough between templar and mage, but these Qunari…" He stood. "They sit like gargoyles, waiting for Maker-knows-what, and everyone goes mad around them. Nearly four years I have stood between fanatics." He looked down at a scroll on his desk. "And now this." He turned, and looked at Hawke.

"Don't keep us in suspense," Hawke said, entering the office fully. He bowed.

"Leave us," Viscount Dumar said to Bran. He waited until the other man had gone before turning his attention to Hawke. "Meredith at my throat, Orsino at my heels, and a city scared of heretical giants. Balance has been held because the Qunari ask for nothing. Even the space in Lowtown was a 'gift' to contain them. But now the Arishok has requested you. By name." Viscount Dumar gave him a level look. "What did you do?"

"I got his attention a couple of times. I guess I pressed him, but that was years ago."

"It makes no sense. And it doesn't matter. I just need them quiet." Viscount Dumar paced the office. "I remember how you helped my son. It seems you are meant to have influence above your station." He turned back to face Hawke. "Speak to the Arishok. Give him what he needs to keep the peace. Can you do that for Kirkwall, Serah Hawke?"

"Have the years been kind to Saemus?"

"He is his own man, but your actions tempered him somewhat. He is not so angry at the world." He gave him a grateful look. "I thank you for that. I may not agree with him on many things, but I am proud of what he is becoming."

Hawke found the presence of the Qunari old, admittedly he didn't know much about them, but an armed convoy indicated an invasion normally. "The Qunari usually arrive as conquerors. Odd that this has gone on so long."

Viscount nodded. "Very, and I am not interested in antagonising them. That is practically why I suffer being a messenger today. A treaty exists and it has been honoured. Although…"

"You have doubts?"

He nodded. "They claim they're waiting for a second ship, but it has been three years. They want something else."

"I am always willing to assist."

"That is an attitude this city has lacked for a long time." Viscount Dumar actually looked relieved. "Appease the Arishok. Take his demand and let him return to dormancy." He sighed. "As awkward as this has been, it is better than the alternative."

He saw Saemus on the way out of the Viscount's office, and paused to give greetings. Saemus smiled at him. "You're here rather often, Serah Hawke. A good influence, I think. Even by not taking sides, you helped start something. I still accept no blame for defending Qunari. And I don't miss the kinship of people who oppose what I believe."

Hawke shrugged. "The Arishok asked for me. I think they're are headache, but they're like so many people."

"Then you've already treated them with more grace than most. Mere existence should not be an offence—no matter how they challenged the Chantry. Not when some of their ideas are so… compelling."

* * *

When he emerged out of the keep he was met by Bodahn, who offered his services as his manservant for his gratitude of rescuing his son. Even though no matter how many times Hawke said there was no need. He informed in the last the proceeds of the treasury found in the Deep Roads had come through and that his mother wanted him to return to the mansion.

Aveline was actually waiting for him at the estate. She nodded when he entered. "You've settled in nicely."

"It's been hard work to get here."

"It's just luck… and skill."

She nodded her head at him. "Indeed. Still, more coin never hurts, right? Say, if someone wanted to pass some work your way…?"

"I'm listening, Aveline. What's the trouble?"

"Someone's trying to be a guard. Poorly." She raised her hand when he started to look insulted. "Remember Emeric? The templar? He wants your help and some sort of official sanction."

Hawke blinked. "Official sanction?"

She sighed. "For his 'investigation'. He's convinced that every random murder in the past few years is connected, and he won't be quiet."

Hawke frowned. "I seem to recall he had some good leads."

"Then you won't mind chasing his threads. If it leads somewhere else, I'll pick it up. Right now, he's just distracting my men."

"I'll do what I can, but right now I'm about to go talk to the Arishok at the request of the Viscount," he said to her. "Want to come along?"

"Who else is coming?" She followed him up to his room and waited at the door as he gathered his armour.

"Fenris, most likely. Merrill seems to want to join, despite the danger. We can stop by the Hanged Man on our way to the docks, see if Varric wants to join us."

* * *

He told Aveline to wait outside while he had a word with his mother. She was still getting used to the fact that they were living in her old home.

"It's strange, living here again," said Leandra. "My childhood home, now owned by my child." She then turned and looked at one of the windows. "It's not something I would have imagined when I was a little girl staring outside this window. I'm still grateful you used your money from the expedition to buy back the estate. I feel like an Amell again."

"I'm gonna make the name 'Hawke' one to be proud of in this city," said Hawke firmly.

Leandra smiled. "I don't doubt it! Your father would have said that with the exact look, too. I just wish we could all be together as a family one more time. But I can't spend the rest of my life mourning Bethany and Carver. They're gone and I can't bring them back."

Hawke would trade all the money in the world just to bring them back, but he knew there was beyond his power.

* * *

The Arishok watched him for a moment. "Last we met, I did not know your name. Did not care to." He gestured. "You have changed your fortune over the years. The Qunari have not. I offer a courtesy, Hawke. Someone has stolen what he thinks is the formula for _gaatlok_. You will want to hunt him."

Hawke blinked. "Excuse me, but this sounds like quite the feat."

"It was allowed. The stolen formula was a decoy. _Saar-qamek_ —a poison gas, not explosives. A small amount is dangerous enough to your kind. But if made in quantity, perhaps by someone intending to sell it…"

Hawke eyes widened, he only knew one person who might resort to stealing from the Qunari. "That merchant…" Hawke frowned. "Javaris?"

"Would he be cautious, or would he assume success and make enough to threaten a district?" The Arishok gestured. "A courtesy, Hawke. You will want to hunt him."

He turned to Varric. "Any idea where we can find Javaris?"

"I heard about a sell-off. Merchant territories and such. They don't do that unless someone left in a hurry." Varric shrugged. "I'd have figured he rooked some noble. He's sure not a burglar."

Hawke nodded. "Just tell me where he is."

"I haven't kept up on the squirt. Ask the Coterie."

He then turned and looked at the Arishok. "So how dangerous does this mixture could become?" he asked.

"It's not a threat to Qunari. For your kind, it is as dangerous as those who breathe it."

"Care to elaborate?"

"The gas kills, but first it turns allies against their own in blind rage. So, the greater the skill of those sent against us, the more dangerous they become to their own people."

"Hard to control the best of times," Hawke muttered.

"It is no longer our problem," he said plainly.

The Arishok settled back on his bench. " _Panahedan_ , Hawke. I do not hope you die."

* * *

"Your selling the assets of Javaris Tintop?" Hawke asked a Coterie girl.

She nodded. "We are. Limited districts, limited contracts. Keeps territory clear and separate from the start. He had a meagre lot, but he's skipped with dues outstanding, so up it goes."

"There's a lot riding on finding Javaris. Can you help?"

"The members of our little fellowship expect privacy." Her smile held just a trace of evil. "But, he skipped out on paying me, too." She pointed. "Javaris left in a hurry. I'd put him at Smugglers' Cut, if he's avoiding patrols. It empties at a cave outside town." She gestured. "Tell him I said, 'Don't come back.'"

He began heading in that direction. Behind him, Varric was shaking his head. "Not the trail I'd expect from a master thief. Just saying."

"Something is definitely up," Hawke replied. "But if he left in a hurry, could be he does know something."

* * *

They found the dwarf and he had every attempt to talk peacefully, but the moment he saw them he ordered his men to attack them. Which was a foolish move, considering what he asked him to do three years ago.

Javaris was cowering when the last of the mercenaries was either dead or fleeing. Hawke walked up to him. "Calm yourself, Javaris. You're not dead yet."

"You?" Javaris shook his head. "Granny's garters, she would hire you. I can't buy a break on discount. You know what? Go ahead. Take my head and pike it back to that sodding elf. I need the rest."

Someone here wasn't making any sense. She? Elf? How daft would one have to be to mistake the Arishok for an elven woman? "What in blazes are you talking about?"

"You don't know? Then, what, you're tracking for the Qunari?" Javaris's eyes widened. "Then she did it, that elf got them after me for nothing. Bitch-born."

Varric laughed. "Ah, I knew he was no burglar. We're not climbers."

"Look, I'm minding business, same old, and out of the blue some elf tries to kill me." Javaris threw up his hands. "Says she's got the Qunari powder and I'm her cover. I slipped her, hired some bodyguards, and ran for it. And now you're here. Great."

Hawke shook his head. "If you're innocent, you could plead your case to the Arishok."

"Let's breathe this down. An elf with explosives wants me dead. Part two, the Qunari may think I'm a thief and also want me dead. Either option seems promising?" He raise an eyebrow at Hawke, who stood there motionless. "Didn't think so. Here, you want to drag dark into light, I had a man follow her. The elf's in Lowtown. I just want to get out. With my dead guards. Thanks for that."

He looked down at Javaris. "Better luck whatever you're bound, Javaris. The further the better."

"Right. Got me a rosy future to plan out. Think I'll start by selling some boots." Javaris bent, and started stripping the gear from the dead men. "Sodding bunch of… take a long breath on a short shaft you… blasted dog-lord in-roaders."

* * *

They entered Lowtown and went down the alleyway Javaris' man had tracked down the elf. There was already a guard trying to deal with a lot of scared and angry looking citizens.

"All of you, I can't fight the damned air. You want to live, stay out," he said.

"What's going on, Maecon?" Aveline asked.

The gave Aveline a desperate look. "Guard-Captain. There's… I can't even describe…"

"On your time, son."

He nodded. "Reports of some haze with the stench of rust and… throw up. There was a cloud, then a… lingering mist. Anyone caught in the cloud just went mad. Then the others just retched themselves dead."

"All right, keep your post. We'll take it from here." Aveline started forward without even checking to see if they were going to follow. She did glance at him once they got to the gate. "He's a good man. Trust that it's as bad as he says."

He opened the gate. "Let's hope this elf didn't try to make enough powder to sell."

"Didn't sound like a merchant to me. Let's go."

The mist burned his lungs. Varric managed to find himself a high vantage point, out of the worst, as he fired Bianca into the attacking and more than a little insane mercenaries. Hawke alternated his attack spells with the occasional healing of himself, Merrill, Fenris and Aveline.

Green haze poured out of a barrel. He snatched up a metal latch, then used it to seal the lid. "There must be others," he called out. He coughed, and sent a wave of ice into a group of attackers. Without knowing that the gas was, he hesitated to call up fire or lightning. Especially as there may well still be civilians around.

Aveline and Fenris took up back to back positions, shielding him as he continued sealing the barrels and healing them up. Merrill took down any archers that try to get a good shot at them. With the last of the barrels sealed, the mist began to settle. Merrill gave him a concerned look as he downed one of his lyrium potions, and Hawke gave her a reassuring nod.

Aveline gestured at another group came down from a high point in the alley. Another group, led, coincidentally enough, by an elven woman. She looked very sick and it was wonder that she was able to stand. Hawke tried to calm her down. "Easy, I'm just trying to find out what happened."

"Is that?" She looked down at him. "Serah Hawke. You have enemies. I'm glad it's you, really. These poor people. You are a much better target."

He glanced at Merrill and Aveline, and they began to spread out a bit, getting ready for an another fight. "You stole the _gaatlok_ , what, to sell? Justify yourself?"

"Qunari take my people. My siblings forget their culture, then go to the Qun for purpose. We're losing them twice. So, I get help from your people. We'll take the Qunari thunder, make some accidents, and make them hated. But this…" She looked around the alley. "This is all wrong."

"Which of my _people_ putting up to this theft?" Hawke demanded.

She didn't answer the question in fact she looked insane. "It can still work. They are hidden in your city. They'll enrage the faithful, and make sure the Qunari are blamed." She hefted her blade. "Me, I'm finished. I just need a few more bodies. A few more."

She made the mistake of jumping at Hawke. Hawke simply fired a fireball right in his stomach and she collided with the wall so hard that it broke her neck, Aveline and Fenris then surged forward to meet the rest. Hawke, Merrill and Varric both directed their fire around the warriors, disrupting the enemy and keeping them from being able to regroup. It was over in less than five minutes.

The guard was relieved to see them survive. Aveline left him in charge of settling the situation, and the four of them limped back to the manor, still coughing. Bodhan immediately rushed down the passage, and came back up with Anders. The mage almost immediately began fussing. Varric smirked. He was so busy fussing over Hawke he hadn't even noticed he'd also healed up Aveline, Fenris and Merrill.

"Tell me… did you… did you ever meet a Dalish Warden when you're with the Wardens? Theron Mahariel?"

Anders looked up surprised. "As a matter of fact, I did. Do you know him?"

"We grew up together. He was one of my clan. I keep hoping to hear some news…"

"Well, I only saw him once during the Battle of Amaranthine, he then began to study on certain darkspawn and headed to Orlais."

* * *

Afterwards he went to report back to the Arishok the next morning. The Arishok seemed somewhat less than surprised by the news. "So, I was wrong about our thief."

"It appears so."

"They say we were careless with our trap, that this is our fault. But even without the _saar-qamek_ , there would have been death. This elf was determined to lay blame at our feet." He shook his head. "I admire conviction with a focus, but your kind are truly committed to weakness."

Hawke glanced back at Aveline, who was glaring. He turned to look at the Arishok again. "She was angry to see her people losing their culture by claiming yours."

"We accept those who submit to the Qun. The weak naturally seek the strong. It doesn't matter. We do not come equipped to indoctrination. I am here to satisfy a demand you cannot understand."

"It's been a long time," Hawke pointed out.

"It will take as long as needed. No ship is coming. There is no rescue from duty to the Qun. I am stuck here."

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "That is not the understanding of the city leaders and their… supporters."

"Let them rot. Filth stole from us. Not now, not the _saar-qamek_. Years ago. A simple act of greed has bound me. We are all denied Par Vollen until I alone recover what was lost under my command." The Arishok rose. "This is why this elf and her shadows are unimportant. That is why I do not simply walk from this pustule of a city." He actually took a few steps towards them. "Fixing your mess is not a demand of the Qun. And you should all be grateful!" It took a few moments for the man to regain control of himself, and he walked back to the bench. He sat, then looked at Hawke. "Thank you, human, for your service. Leave."

They beat a graceful retreat. Varric glanced up as they left the compound. "That's an oxman ready to charge. The Viscount should know."

* * *

Hawke went to the Hanged Man when he found Isabela, unsurprisingly at the bar. "Isabela. You look well."

She smiled, and greeted him with a hug and a quick grab of his ass. "Are you talking about the flush on my cheeks? It must be the whiskey." She leaned back on the bar. "Do you remember the relic I told you about? The one I need to find? I've been following a lead. I'm so close, I can taste it."

"Isn't that what you said last time?"

"Oh." She smiled innocently. "You mean when I went digging for that stash."

"Yes, that turned out to contain several badly written poems and an old boot."

"It could've contained the relic." She grabbed a couple mugs, and then sat down at one of the tables, gesturing for him and Fenris to join her. "I just thought I'd let you know that I may soon be taking you up on that offer of help."

He accepted the mug she passed him. "You can count on me."

"Thanks. I appreciated it." She smiled. "If I learn anything new, you'll be the first to hear about it." She leaned back, and then let her eyes travel over first him, and then Merrill.

Merrill looked at her looked uncomfortably "You've had many lovers, haven't you?"

Isabela shrugged. "Fewer than some think. "

"But you never stay with them," Merrill frowned.

Isabela shook her head. "No, why should I?"

"But the act of lovemaking is so… intimate," Merrill said uneasily.

"I don't _make love_. What I do is only skin-deep, Kitten," Isabella smirked. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

Hawke just rolled his eyes as Isabela nearly fell out of her chair laughing.

Varric handed over the small pouch of coins. "Just tell me if you hear more rumblings from the Coterie about protection. Blondie's got enough trouble…" He waved the man away when he saw Hawke enter, and gave his friend a considering look. "Let me ask you something, Hawke. You made it into Hightown. I'd expect anyone else to get complacent. But you… you must have plans."

"No plans yet. I'm simply trying to look out for my mother."

Understandable. He'd spent most of his life taking care of his mother as well. Leandra was a sweet lady. "I suppose after the whole business with Carver, it's a good idea to hang on to what you got." He saw a cloud go over Hawke's eyes, and immediately regretted mentioning Junior. "To be honest, I thought there might be a chance you'd want to go back to Ferelden now that things have calmed down. It's good to hear you're sticking around."

Hawke smiled and spread his arms. "What would I do without my trusty dwarf? I'd cry myself to sleep without you."

Varric put a hand over his heart. "Oh, don't get all teary-eyed on me, Hawke. You know I can't stand to see a human cry." He slung Bianca over his shoulder. "So, we've got a whole city-state full of trouble to get into. Shall we get started?"

* * *

Cassandra stood with Leliana, letting the dwarf rest his voice. "The dwarf would have us believe the Champion was without ambition, that he was drawn in rather than that he sought out."

Leliana nodded. "That might not change anything. Look at Elissa and Alistair. Both of them were drawn in, and rather against their will. Now they rule Ferelden."

She folded her arms. "And their amnesty is causing no shortage of problems for everyone." Cassandra shook her head irritably, and then sighed when Leliana started to open her mouth. "No, now is not the time for us to have that discussion again."


	18. Repentance

He went to visit Anders in his clinic and discovered Isabela was there.

"…don't come running to me next time you pick up one of these diseases," said Anders.

"Isn't that point of magic?" Isabella asked with a hand on her hip. She then walked past Hawke with a strange smile on her face.

"I don't want to know," he said shaking his head.

Anders looked up when Hawke walked over. "Things just keep getting worse. I had templars practically on my doorstep the other night."

"The templars are hunting you?"

"Not me specifically. They were just checking the refugee camps. But it's not like this place is a secret. It's only a matter of time."

"I can't say you've been keeping a low profile," Hawke advised.

"The knight-commander is out of control. Even her own people have been talking about it. The curfews. The midnight raids on mages' families. Everyone I know, forced into hiding so they won't be made Tranquil."

Hawke gave Anders a concerned look. "Is that…" He lowered his voice slightly. "Making it harder for you? With Justice?"

"In the Fade, there is no 'time'." Anders leaned on the crate he used as a desk. "Emotion rules everything. Justice doesn't know how to sit idle until the right moment to strike." He shook his head. "And I can't say I have any greater patience. I fear what my anger has made of my friend."

"What's the worst that can happen? You turn into an abomination and start…" He sighed. "Never mind. Bad joke."

"My control is fraying. I cannot hold back Justice—or whatever creature he has become—much longer. I have not attacked the templars openly. I've helped the mages here as best I can. But this impasse cannot last." He straightened, and stared at Hawke for a moment. "You're at as much risk as I am. That's what I worry. What if your money and position aren't enough? What if the knight-commander turns on you?" Anders shook his head. "Everything I've done to control this… I don't care. I would drown us in blood to keep you safe."

Hawke grew deeply concerned with Anders and was worried that he might do something rash. He placed a hand on Anders shoulder. "I won't lose you to this."

Anders smiled. "Then come with me. This is your fight, too. One day, the world must see us as people, not just mages. Help me make that happen."

* * *

Hawke had received a note from Sebastian, the man he had helped three years ago with the mercenaries that killed his family, he asked to meet him in the Chantry.

When they arrived he discovered that Sebastian was involved in a rather heated discussion with Grand Cleric Elthina. "I thought it would end here," Sebastian was saying. "Young master Hawke destroyed Flint Company. None remain. Yet…" He sighed. "Now that I know who sent them, it's harder to see their deaths as justice."

"Death is never justice," Elthina said.

"I—" Sebastian turned towards them. "Hawke. We were just talking about you."

"Saying good things I hope?" Hawke said.

"Hawke asked diplomatically," Varric added.

"You know, I hate it when you do that." Hawke glared at the dwarf.

Varric's face was unapologetic. "Hawke muttered in an angry aside to the dwarf…"

"If, ah, you two have a moment?" Sebastian shifted his weight uncomfortably. He waited until they were looking at him. "I've learned who hired Flint Company—the Harimanns, a noble family of Kirkwall. They were my parents' allies. It's hard to believe they betrayed us like this."

Harimann… wasn't that the one that was nearly assassinated due to helping out Ferelden? "I think I met Lord Harimann."

"Lord Harimann used to be a good man, but he became rather strange in his dotage. He died last year. His daughter took over the family. Lady Johane Harimann. They say she's become quite reclusive of late."

"Any idea why they turned on you?"

"Money? Power? It's hard to say. Lady Harimann was always jealous of my family for being royalty when hers were mere nobility. But I can't imagine that pushing her into outright murder."

"Is there any peaceful way to resolve this?" Hawke asked hopefully.

Elthina folded her arms and nodded. "If you treat the Harimanns like you did those mercenaries, you could start a war. Go carefully, Sebastian."

Sebastian nodded. "I must speak with Lady Harimann and find out what drove her to this madness." He glanced briefly at Hawke. "But I am the last of my line. I should not go alone and make myself a target."

Hawke nodded. "If am standing beside you, that should make us think twice."

Sebastian bowed. "Again, your interest in my plight humbles me."

* * *

Sebastian led them to the estate, but something was off. Firstly the door was wide open and second or could sense a weakness in the Veil.

"That's strange. The door is wide open." Sebastian shook his head. "And not a single guard posted. This is not the Lady Harimann I remember…"

Carefully, they moved through the estate. And then they discovered Lady Harimann's daughter and she was acting strangely.

"More! You ladies son of a bitch! What's taking so long?" she yelled drunkenly at a keg.

"Flora?" Sebastian stared.

She acted as if she couldn't see them. "Why does no one in this house care what I want? More wine! Or I swear, I will drown you in the dregs!"

"That sounds familiar," said Varric. "I don't envy anyone in this household tomorrow morning."

Sebastian just shook his head complexed. "She doesn't even see us. This is no normal wine."

They carried on through the house and discovered Lady Harimann's son, who was acting strange as his sister. He was standing at a vat of melted gold with an elven servant pointing a knife at a serving girl.

"More logs! It must be molten!" he looked at the servant with the knife. "You! More coins. I want every scrap of gold in this house!"

"P-Please, messere…" she begged.

"There's nothing to fear. You'll be beautiful." He then looked at his servant. "Pour it over her!"

"Don't!" Sebastian yelled. "You'll kill her!" Like his sister he did acknowledge their presence. "He can't hear me."

The elven servant did and when he tried to stop them Sebastian punched him across the face and the girl took the opportunity to escape. Hawke then used a spray of ice to douse the fire and re-solidify the gold while the other man was distracted.

A good thing he did, because he then said, "Perhaps I should be the one."

"We must end this madness," Sebastian said.

They found Lady Harimann's husband and he was… well, engaged. He was naked and sitting on the edge of the bed while I naked elven serving girl was sucking his length.

"Oh… lower… lower…" he said blissfully.

"I beg your pardon, Hawke. I did not mean to expose you to such things." Sebastian shook his head.

"What are they even doing?" said Merrill, whose face was completely pink. " _Mythal'enaste_!"

"No! The feather! Use the feather!" She then stopped and he lifted her chin so that she could look into his eyes. "Where have you been all my life? Today, I am more than a man! Come! Felicitate me!"

He then placed her on his lap and she began to move her hips up and down.

"He has no idea we're here." He then looked at them. "I've known Ruxton Harimann my whole life. He's a complete prude!"

Hawke had a hard time believing that.

"Mid-life crisis?" Varric offered.

"Where's your brother? Let's ask him to join us…"

That's when they decided to leave the room.

* * *

They walked down into the cellars and found all three Harimanns were waiting when they made it downstairs. "Turn back. There is nothing here for you."

"You shall not enter," Flora said. All three Harimanns fell to the ground as though someone had cut the strings holding them up. Shades began to form, coming out of the walls.

Hawke then sprayed them with ice stopping them in their tracks.

* * *

They made their way through a rather extensive labyrinth. When he got back to the estate, he was going to have Sandal search thoroughly for any secret doors in the basement, just in case. How could something like this exist beneath the city? Why did something like this exist beneath the city? He was no expert on architecture, but it looked Tevinter. And very, very old. The Veil here was so thin it was almost like breathing the Fade.

Sebastian turned out to be fairly good with the bow he carried. The man was clearly disturbed by what they were finding, but was holding up well enough. He'd barely blinked when Hawke had started tossing out spells.

Lady Harimann was near an altar, talking to a desire demon. "Starkhaven will not submit. I put that idiot Goran Vael into the prince's seat, but the other families won't heed him. I must marry him to Flora and solidify our hold. But I need more power."

"I've given you much." The desire demon's voice was almost a purr. "Your desires run deep. You've already traded your husband and your children. What more can you offer?"

"What bargain have you made?" Hawke roared.

"Who is this? Who are you? How did you get here?" Lady Harimann's eyes narrowed at Hawke, then widened when she saw the man standing a couple paces behind him. "Sebastian…?"

"You were my mother's friend. How could you murder her?" Sebastian put his hand on his bow.

"Such an ugly word," the desire demon said. "I prefer 'removed the only obstacle between her and her dreams.'"

Sebastian glared at the demon. "This was your idea."

The demon smiled. "I could create such desires if I wished. But it's far easier to nurture those that already exist. The desire for power is easy to find. You and your friend both possess it, do you not? You both wish to rise."

"Not if it meant selling out my family," Hawke glared.

The demon focused her eyes on Sebastian. "How loyal were your friends to you? Everyone has a price. Everyone wants something."

"Do not listen to her."

"Oh, such a pious soul, masking so much ambition. Are you so different from my lady? You yearn for the same lands, the same power…"

"I am the rightful heir! She is a usurper and murderer." Sebastian shook his head.

The demon moved towards him just slightly. "You swore to put aside worldly goods and ambitions. But they couldn't stop you from wanting them."

Dammit, the demon was actually having an effect on the prince. Arguing with such a creature was foolish. Hawke stepped forward, putting himself between the demon and Sebastian. "I will hear no more from you." He called up his power, and sent a jagged blast of lightning into her.

Behind him, Fenris drew his blade as more shades appeared, and moved to keep the lesser demons away while Hawke dealt with the desire demon. A heartbeat later, Merrill, Varric and Sebastian had also joined the fight as did Lady Harimann.

* * *

"Let us return to the Chantry." Sebastian's face was tired. "I must pray for Lady Harimann's soul."

Hawke glanced at the corpse. It might be a little late for that, but he wasn't going to say anything.

Flora met them as they left the underground ruins. "Sebastian. I am so, so…" She sighed. "Sorry is such an inadequate word. When I think what Mother made us do…" She shuddered. "What those creatures made us do…"

"We were friends, Flora." Sebastian just shook his head.

"It was like a cloud came down on me. All I could feel or think was what the demon allowed." Tears started to fall from her eyes.

Hawke sighed. "Don't blame your mother. The desire demon made this happen." Sebastian actually gave him a grateful look. It almost made him wish he was telling the complete truth.

She nodded slowly. "I doubt many people will be so forgiving." She turned her gaze to Sebastian. "If it takes every last coin my family owns, I will make reparations to everyone we've wronged. Starting with you, Sebastian. We weren't the only ones vying for Starkhaven. If you face more opposition, you have my support."

Sebastian sighed. "It will not make up for what happened."

"No." She shook her head. "That's true."

"I will tell you when I need you." Sebastian glanced back at him, and then they left the house.

* * *

He found Sebastian leaning against the railing in the Chantry, looking down at the foyer. The man's face was bleak. "I had hoped prayer might cleanse me of the desire demon's touch. But I still hear her voice so clearly. I feel like I've bathed in filth that will never come off."

Hawke leaned on the rail next to him. "You acted honourably. Why are you ashamed?"

"The demon didn't lie. I used to be bitterly jealous of my brother. I wanted to be prince. Now, everything he had is mine. And he lies in ashes. I keep asking myself, 'do I want this because it's right, or simply to have what I never thought I could?'"

"It is the wisdom not to want power that lets you use it wisely." His father had said that once. He was still struggling to understand what it truly meant, but the words seemed appropriate for the occasion.

"You didn't feel what that demon stirred in me. It cannot be right to lead any army to Starkhaven with such doubt in my heart." Sebastian managed a smile. "I owe you more than I can say, Hawke. I will offer my service to you here before I move on."

Hawke shook his head. "If you want to help me, do it because we're friends. There's no debt between us."

"You have a good soul, Hawke." Sebastian put a hand on his shoulder. "It was truly the Maker who led you to me."

* * *

Isabela was lounging in a chair across from Fenris when Hawkel dropped by. "So the seneschal's tax collector won't be coming around again, like you asked. Funny story."

Fenris glanced up at Hawke, then nodded to Isabela. "I'll pass, but thank you for the help."

"Spoilsport. Why you want to squat up here in Hightown is beyond me."

"I like the view," Fenris said.

Isabela gave a coy smile as she looked at him. "So do I."

Hawke shook his head as she left, and then claimed her chair. Fenris leaned back in his own chair. "Three years," Fenris said. "There's still no sign of Danarius. I'm beginning to wonder if he's finally given up."

"This is his mansion, isn't it?" Hawke glanced around. Fenris had really only bothered to make a couple rooms in the place liveable. "He must know you're here."

"Would you be surprised to learn that it isn't, in fact, his mansion?" Fenris shrugged. "It belongs to a Tevinter merchant, one who has evidently given up on the place. Perhaps he is dead. Perhaps Danarius killed him. Either way, if Danarius is aware of my presence, he has done nothing."

Hawke frowned. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Yes, but…" He stopped and looked at him. "Tell me: what do you do when you stop running?"

Hawke shrugged. "You start over. Isn't that what you want?"

Fenris sighed. "I don't know how." He then rubbed his temple. "My first memory is receiving these markings, the lyrium being branded into my flesh. The agony wiped away everything. Whatever life I had before I became a slave… it's lost." He drained his glass, then rose. "I shouldn't trouble you with this. My problems are not yours."

Hawke just shook his head and smiled. "Your problems are my problems."

"Unlucky you," Fenris sighed.

* * *

"Starkhaven," Cassandra said.

Leliana narrowed her eyes. "If he has sought refuge with none less than the prince, there may be little we can do without destabilising that entire region." She shook her head. "Though Prince Sebastian's loyalty to the Chantry is well known. I am not convinced."

"You have people there?"

"Of course."

Cassandra nodded. "Send some of your birds. If we could just get the chance to talk to the man…" She sighed. "Or perhaps see what the Prince may know."


	19. Mirror Image

"Isabela, my dusky goddess. You have buried yourself in the flesh of my heart, like a worm in a red, red apple."

Hawke just shook his head. One almost had to admire the man's sheer persistence and dedication to the destruction of language. She then noticed Hawke and looked the happiest he had ever seen her.

"Oh, look, my friend is here. Excuse me, she said getting up.

"But I haven't gotten to the part where I invite you to feast upon my tender white flesh!"

She looked at Hawke, who gave an expression that he would rather be anywhere else but here. "That's all right. I think I'll manage."

She turned and smiled at Hawke. "Speaking of romance…" She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "You're interested in Merrill, aren't you?"

Hawke sighed. "I'm that obvious, am I?"

"Well, that's good," she smiled. "She always seemed a little lonely. I get the feeling the girl's messing in something big and dangerous. Look out for her, will you? Make sure she doesn't hurt herself." She then gave a very threatening look that sent chills through his spine. "Oh, and you do anything nasty to her, I'll cut off your balls."

He doubt he would do anything to hurt Merrill, but now he was in making doubly sure that he didn't.

* * *

He decided to dropped by Merrill's house before visiting the Hanged Man. She waved at him eagerly when he entered. "I've got something to show you. Come and see." He followed her into the back room. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

It was, actually, but his attention was on Merrill. "You're much prettier."

Merrill blushed. "Oh, you're too kind! Is… it warming here?" She then shook her head. "Stop babbling, Merrill…" She caressed it gently. "I've spent the last few years restoring this." She turned back towards him. "Two of my clan stumbled across it in a ruin. We never found Tamlen. And Theron came back… poisoned by the _eluvian_. Sick just from being near it."

"What are you trying to do with this mirror?" He looked at it through the veil, but he could sense no corruption from the thing at the moment. Still, something about it disturbed him. Probably the fact that it was a mirror that reflected nothing.

"At first, I wanted to find out what happened to my friends." Merrill sighed. "I told you we never found Tamlen. I hoped…" She shook her head. "But, it's been too long… Tamlen is probably dead by now, if he wasn't already. But still, I know it can help my people. I can at least recover this one small part of our heritage."

"What's an _eluvian_?"

She told him the tale, of Arlathan and mirrors that could communicate across vast distances. He had to admit, it did sound rather fascinating. "The Keeper wanted me to destroy the fragment I kept. She said our ancestors meant it to be forgotten. She's wrong. This mirror could teach us so much about who we once were." She rubbed her arms, and got that sad puppy look again.

"Tell me you didn't bring the killer mirror to Kirkwall just because it's pretty."

"It's not dangerous," Merrill assured. "I promise! I fixed it! Or tried to. With blood magic. The mirror won't hurt anyone." She then rubbed her temple in frustration. "But… it doesn't work. I've tried everything, and I think it's because it needs to be finished with a special tool. An _arulin'holm_. And my clan has one. It's been in their hands for generations…"

"I hear a 'but' coming."

She fidgeted, and then looked up at him. "I can't go back there alone. You have no idea. The Keeper… I can't talk to her. We fight or talk circles around each other. She has a disappointed frown that turns your bones to jelly. Please help me? You will, won't you?"

He looked into her eyes. "I'll go with you."

" _Ma serannas_. I'll find some way to repay you, I promise!" She took a bite of the pie, and her eyes lit up. "Oh, this is marvelous."

* * *

Varric shuffled the cards. "I'll let you run your fingers through it, if you want."

"Your chest hair?" Isabela batted her eyes. "My fingers? Oh, Varric, stop! You're making me quiver."

He dealt. "You know you want to."

"Oh, I do… I can't resist you." She looked at her cards, and tossed a couple coins into the pot. "No woman can."

"I know. It's a terrible burden."

Fenris just rolled his eyes at them before tossing his own bet into the pot. Thrask glared at his cards, and then folded. Varric collected his winnings. Thrask glanced at the door. "I'm surprised Hawke isn't here."

"He's probably off summoning demons and dancing naked under the moon," Varric replied.

"Oh, really?" Isabela said hopefully.

"He doesn't actually live at the Hanged Man, you know," Fenris said to Thrask.

"I'm aware, I just…"

"So are you checking up on him officially, or…" Varric tossed coins into the pot.

"The Order has taken no official notice of Serah Hawke." Thrask sighed. "But there have been… rumours… regarding apostates in the city." He raised. "One of these rumours places an apostate among the city guard. I am concerned that if that particular rumour is pursued…"

Varric sighed. "How much coin to make that rumour go away?"

Thrask shook his head. "I'm dealing with it for now. But if you could pass on the warning, a brief spell of laying low would help me considerably."

"I'll pass the word."

* * *

After the events of the previous evening, a nice walk up Sundermount seemed just the thing. Naturally, bandits attempted to attack them, which helped Varric work out some of his lingering issues. They made their way into the Dalish camp. Lots of people were staring at Merrill. It really didn't look all that friendly. Hawke glanced around before walking towards the Keeper. She, at least, looked pleased to see them. "You return to us, _da'len_. Have you reconsidered this path at last?"

"I…" Merrill glanced at Hawke.

"Go on, I'm with you."

Merrill smiled. "Thank you, Hawke." She then looked towards the Marethari. "Keeper, I need the _arulin'holm_ , the ancient carving blade that Master Ilen keeps."

"I see." Marethari's voice was flat with disapproval. "You wish to rebuild the _eluvian_." She shook her head.

"You don't have to approve" Merrill tilted her chin up defiantly. "I'm invoking _vir sulevanan_. I'll to whatever task you wish."

The keeper folded her arms. "Well, I'm glad to know I can still disapprove." Her glare included all of them. "It is your right. I will give you a service to perform, if you insist."

"It's a lot to ask, but could you two try to be less elfy for the sake of the human present?" Hawke asked.

Marethari chuckled slightly. "We are what we are, child. But I'll try to speak more the common tongue. A _varterral_ has taken the lives of three of our hunters. It lairs in a cavern in the mountainside. Seek it out. Slay it. No one else must fall to its anger." She frowned again. "Do this for us, and I will give you the _arulin'holm_. May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent."

* * *

Naturally the cave was home to giant spiders. He put up a wall of fire to drive them back as Isabela worked quickly to cut Merrill and Anders free of webbing.

Merrill gasped when she saw the first of the dead hunters. They found the second in a side tunnel, and a third in the spider's nest. She collected their amulets, and got a comforting hug from Isabela.

He heard footsteps. "If someone there? It's safe, you can come out."

"Hello?" A young elven man peered around a corner. "Praise Andras… I mean, the Creators. I thought I'd never get out of—" He came towards them, then caught sight of Merrill. Fear filled his face. "Merrill?"

" _Aneth ara_ , Pol." She gave him a worried look. "Are you hurt?"

He started backing away. "Stay back. What do you want from me?"

Hawke exchanged a confused look with Varric. Merrill took a step forward and held a hand out to Pol. "Pol, what's wrong? I'm here to help."

"Stay back. Don't touch me."

Hawke held up a hand to stop Merrill from continuing forward. "Merrill couldn't hurt you if she tried. At worst, she might make frowny faces."

Pol shook his head and continued backing away. "She'll do worse than hurt me. Don't you know what she is?" He turned and ran. "Creators, help me. Someone please."

Merrill went after him. "Pol, no. We have to catch him. Hurry."

Hawke went after her, followed closely by the others. They hadn't gone far when they saw the creature drop down onto the elf. Merrill screamed. "Hold on, Pol. We're coming."

He sent a spray of fire to try driving the creature back. It turned and focused… where the hell were its eyes? It came at them. Anders got the barrier up just in time to prevent Isabela from being skewered, but the pirate was thrown backwards into the wall. Hawke lost sight of Merrill as the creature kept attacking.

Hawke channelled fire into his staff and then tossed like a spear driving it into the thing's underbelly as Anders focused his magic. It fell.

Merrill was weeping over Pol's body.

"Po… maybe it's not too late!" she said desperately. She then turned to Anders. "You can help him, can't you, Anders? You can heal anyone!"

Anders gave her an apologetic look. "Merrill… he's gone."

Merrill cried and Isabela wrapped her arms around Merrill and held the girl while she cried. "Why did you run? You shouldn't have run!"

Hawke placed a hand on her shoulder. "There was nothing you could have done."

"He was more afraid of me than the _varterral_ …" she said wiping her eyes. "Pol was unlike the others. He was city-born. Worldly. He ran away from Denerim and found us. I thought if anyone would understand, he would. This… something is very wrong, I need to see the Keeper."

As they walk through the caverns Merrill was still trying to get her head around of what just happened.

"Pol… What was he thinking? He acted like I was a monster…" she said shaking ahead.

"Don't blame yourself, Kitten," said Isabela gently. "Sometimes men do senseless things."

* * *

"The varterral is dead," said Hawke to Marethari.

" _Ma serannas_. I'll breathe easier, knowing that we will lose no more people to it."

"We found these…" said Merrill handing her the amulets

"I'll return them to their families."

"We lost Pol. In the cave, he… he fled at the sight of me, straight into the _varterral_."

"Many of the clan fear you'll bring back the corruption—or worse—from the mirror," Marethari explained.

"And where did they get that idea?" said Merrill narrowing her eyes.

"I am their Keeper, _da'len_. It was my duty to warn them." She then gave her a deeply concerned look. "It's still not too late for you to return to us. Reconsider—there's no need for you to live alone."

Merrill shook her head. "Must we go over this again? You'll never accept what I'm doing."

"The _Eluvian_ is poison. It killed Tamlen. It stole Theron. It led you to blood magic. Will you let it twist you further from who you are?" Marethari was still pleading with Merrill, who had her stubborn face on. Finally, Marethari just shook her head, and turned to him. "Hawke…" She thrust a carefully wrapped item at him. "Because Merrill won't listen, I give this heirloom of my clan to you for safekeeping. Please… don't let her do this." And with that, she walked away.

Hawke was confused it would help if the Keeper actually bothered to tell him why the _Eluvian_ , cleansed of corruption, was dangerous. He wondered, for a moment, if the Keeper was hiding something from him. Merrill, at least, looked relieved. "Thank the Creators. I thought…" She smiled. "Maybe she'd go back on her word."

He tried. "Is it worth restoring the mirror if it turns your clan against you?"

"You know what it's like to lose everything, Hawke." She shook her head. "Not just our land and freedom, but history, stories, language, magic, rituals. Even our gods are gone. It is a sacrifice, but if the mirror restores even one fragment of the past, it's worth it."

Hawke sighed. "It's yours."

She hugged him with a delighted squeal. How many times had Bethany done the same thing, back in Lothering? "Thank you. I knew you would understand." She coughed, and got hold of herself. "Let's be away from here. The others are giving me the evil eye."

* * *

Later in the afternoon he went to visit Merrill, who was sitting by the _Eluvian_. She got her when she heard her footsteps and looked at him with a look of great gratitude.

"Hawke… I could never face the Keeper myself," she smiled. "I never imagined a human would help me restore Dalish history. No one ever understood. Not my Keeper, not my clan… just you."

He gave a coy smile. "I'm sensitive, handsome and supportive. What else could you possibly want?"

Merrill just smiled. "Nothing!" She suddenly went bright pink. "Oh, not that I'm saying that I want you… I'll just stop talking how. You're the first real friend I've ever had since Theron and Tamlen. _Ma serannas, lethallian_."

* * *

He went to see Aveline at the keep and saw her bearing down upon one of her guardsmen.

"We'll need to give them answers by tomorrow, Captain," he said.

"I'll have them. Dismissed."

"The seneschal was particularly vocal—"

"Dismissed." Hawke heard the testy note in her voice. "You'd think the captain of the guard could requisition a templar or two, but no, that would be demeaning. Can't have them working for the people when eternity needs a nanny."

Hawke crossed his arms. "You had to know cleaning up this mess would be difficult."

She shook her head at him. "It's not the challenge. It's the unending part. And really, I blame you. You poured money into a pot that was already full. Everything has shifted." She crossed her arms. "Good job validating the fears of every anti-Ferelden in Kirkwall."

"I didn't realise I was making it worse by getting ahead."

"I'm just harassing you." She shook her head at him fondly. "Although you are a bit like the centre of a hurricane. You've changed fortunes for many people. Not always for the better."

"Sounds like you're spreading yourself pretty thin." The crime in Kirkwall was bad enough. He didn't want to even think about what it would be like without Aveline and her people.

"There are a lot of people in my charge. Someone has to look out for them."

"You guard the guardsmen?"

"I don't turn people loose like Jeven. There's additional training, doubled patrols." She sighed. "Costs are up, but I've halved injuries. I'll take it, and argue with Seneschal Bran later."

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Grouse all you want, but the Aveline I know doesn't regret a second as captain."

"They'd have to drag me out of here." She folded her arms. "And I'm sure some are lining up to try. You among them, I bet. Haven't had much time to follow you around. Not that I need to. I can trust that you at least try to do right."

Hawke shook his head.

* * *

He soon returned to his estate and found Merrill there looking a little flustered.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here! I thought you went to the Hanged Man. And I almost went there to look for you first, but then I thought you might have gone to see your uncle instead…" She eventually calmed herself. "And I'm rambling, aren't I?"

Hawke just smiled. "I don't mind. You're adorable when you flustered."

Merrill turned slightly pink around her ears. "After you left, I… I couldn't stop thinking about Pol, and the mirror, and everything that happened. I wonder if… if I've made a mistake. Leaving the Dalish."

Hawke placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're just feeling homesick. Don't second-guess yourself."

Merrill then looked into his eyes. "I suppose if I had left my people, I never would have met you." She then turned away from him. "If you were Dalish, my people would have a kingdom by now. And half of Thedas would be attacking us. So maybe things worked out for the best."

"Does it bother you that I'm human?" Hawke asked.

"No!" she said shaking ahead furiously. "I'm not saying that I change you for… I'm making things worse, aren't I?"

She then fidgeted with her fingers. "I just… I'm one of the elvhen. I'm supposed to preserve who we are, and if I…" She started to look slightly hot under the collar and her ears turned a bright pink. "There are reasons that it's bad to… is it warming here? _Elgar'nan_ , I'll stop talking now."

"I'll guess I'll postpone making myself more elfy," Hawke chuckled.

"Oh, I don't know, you'd look handsome with pointy ears. Not that you don't now." She then took a deep breath. "The Keeper—my whole clan—will object if we… not that they can possibly hate me any more, I suppose."

Hawke lifted her chin so that they stared at each other's eyes. "Their disapproval is a small price to pay for being with you."

Merrill looked away clearly unsure on what to do. He then placed a hand on her cheek and they looked into each other's eyes once more.

"Merrill… It's all right."

A second later she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his lips and he wrapped his arms around her waist as they fought over control.

He then picked up bridal style and headed over towards his room.

Once they were there they began to remove each other's clothing and carefully he placed Merrill on the bed. He carefully inserted his length into her and began to move his hips with one hand around her waist and the other on one of her breasts.

They kissed and he could feel her moaning inside his mouth as their tongues danced for control. Her hands traced across his back as he slowly increased his speed.

He then rolled over so that she was now on top and retraced his hand that was on the small of back towards her ass and gave it a good squeeze. This causes her to gasp immensely into his mouth as they continue fight over control.

Then once again they flipped so that he was now on top of her and now he was pounding into her and her moans filled the room. He placed a hand over the back of her head running his fingers through her hair while the other will still had a firm grasp on her ass.

She wrapped her legs around him forcing him to increase his speed, seconds later he could feel her liquids poring over his length and the entire room was filled of them moans. He was at a starting to worry if his mother could actually hear them in her room, but it was too late to stop now and he kept on pushing in and out.

Then with one final push he unleashed all his work into her and he felt her side both of them panting and their arms around each other.

"What happens now?" Merrill asked uncertainly. "Are we… what did this mean?"

"Now we both decide what happens next," said Hawke gently.

She looked into his eyes. "If you hadn't come to Sundermount that day… I can't imagine where I'd be now."

They laid there in silence until she finally said out loud, "I love you." She then turned pink. "I probably shouldn't have said that, should I? I always say the stupidest things…"

Hawke looked at and smiled. "I love you, Merrill. Actually, I was going to suggest you move in with me."

The moment he said that she got up, rather gingerly, and turned to face him like he was crazy. "Here? In Hightown? The rich, fancy part of the city with no rats in it? And you… with an elf?"

He just shrugged.

Merrill smiled as she shook her head. " _Ma vhenan_ … you really are crazy, aren't you?" He then got up and walked over to her, slightly gingery himself. "If you're not afraid, then… neither am I."

They then kissed as if they were the only two people in the entire world.

* * *

"He fell in love with a blood mage?" said Cassandra indignantly. "I'm starting to believe that we were right about the Champion."

"Maybe the Champion believe that he could stop using blood magic if she loved him enough," Leliana suggested. "Besides she is not the first Dalish to fall in love with a human and vice a versa."

"I know, I know," said Cassandra gently.

"Besides, the rumours indicate that she no longer uses blood magic may be the Champion's plan worked. My agents tell me that she is actually helping elven refugees, leading them away from the fighting and protecting them. Can we truly condone her for that?"

"No, but we should see what the dwarf has to say."


	20. Family Matter

Hawke woke up and found Merrill wrapped up in his arms. He smiled as he looked down at her beautiful face and very carefully, and reluctantly, he crawled out of bed.

He decided to let Merrill sleep as he got dressed. He made his way downstairs and found that Bodahn had already prepared breakfast. His mother was already seated and taking a piece of egg.

"Had a good night sleep?" Hawke asked as he sat.

"Not as good as you," Leandra said smiling slightly.

"You know," he said slowly.

"I've seen how you and that elf girl look at each other," she smiled. "It makes me wonder whether I shouldn't remarry. I'm sure the last thing you need is your mother watching over your shoulder every time you come home. But perhaps there is a life want your children outgrown you."

"Sounds like you've got someone in mind," Hawke smiled. It was good to see his mother smiled again, he knew that she loved his father more than anything in the world, but after losing Carver and Bethany she deserve to have some happiness.

Leandra gave him a stern look. "Nothing I'm ready to share yet, so don't pry."

* * *

Varric looked up when he saw Hawke enter, and waved his friend over. "Hawke, I've got some news. You might not want to be near anything breakable when I tell you, though."

"Why don't I buy you a pint and we'll talk?" Hawke gestured to Norah.

"You just keep making this harder. Although I won't say no to a pint, if you're buying." He sat down at the table, and took a drink to fortify himself. "I've had an ear out for Bartrand. After the Deep Roads, he ran to Rivain, probably because he knew I couldn't track him. But I hear he might be back in Kirkwall. He called in loans from a few of his contacts in Hightown."

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "Was he staying in Hightown, or just passing through?"

"If my information is good—and it's always good—he has a house there. Which gives us a good shot at having a word with my dear, sweet brother."

"How are you holding up, Varric?"

There was actual concern in his friend's voice. Considering which of them had lost the most in that little debacle… He was still surprised, some days, to realise Hawke genuinely didn't blame him for any of it. "Me? My no-account, backstabbing brother is practically in arm's reach. I couldn't be better."

"We need some answers from your brother."

It had been a long time, but that particular score could finally be settled. "I agree! Bianca's been missing him something awful. Let's stop by his new house. Welcome him back to the neighborhood, and all that."

* * *

Sebastian joined them as they waited for sundown. No use attacking Bartrand's manor in broad daylight, after all. The prince actually looked eager. "It's been very exciting working with Hawke."

Varric just stared. "Are you for real?"

"It seems like he's involved every time there's a crisis in Kirkwall." Actually, Sebastian did have something of a point there. Some days it felt like the city would have fallen apart if the Blight hadn't driven him here. Sebastian smiled cheerfully. "I've never had so many opportunities to help people."

"All right. I thought I was getting tired of moody." Hawke raised an eyebrow. "I take it back." He turned his gaze back to Sebastian. "You're making my teeth ache."

* * *

Isabela appeared around the corner and when she laid eyes on Sebastian she smiled seductively. Sebastian just shook his head. "Is this getting you any closer to your ship?"

"Huh?" Isabela blinked.

"I just… don't understand why you're working with Hawke. You don't seem to care about anything we do." He tilted his head at her. "What's keeping you here?"

She just turned around, shaking her ass a bit, and turned ahead giving him a sly smile. "Mostly the Blooming Rose. I'm paid up through the end of the year. I'd hate not to use it."

"The…" Sebastian stuttered. "Brothel?"

"What? Women can't go to brothels, too? You're just not using your imagination." She elbowed Hawke. "Oh, look! Now he is." She grinned at Sebastian. "You're cute when you're blushing."

Fortunately they just arrived at the mansion. The door to the manor was shut. And dusty. There were even cobwebs in one corner.

"This house looks abandoned." Hawke frowned.

Varric shook his head. "I don't get it…" He looked around. "My sources saw people making deliveries here just a week ago. This… looks like it's been empty for months."

"This is still our best lead. We might find something that'll take us to Bartrand."

Varric nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

* * *

Varric kicked open the door, yelled for his brother, and started shooting enemies left and right. Within moments, Bartrand was begging for mercy and...

"Why lie now about this?" The Seeker narrowed her eyes.

Varric shifted in the chair. "What do you want from me? I broke in, I found my brother, and it was awkward. Family business."

She folded her arms and glared. "No. I think there's more to it."

He sighed. "Fine." He shifted again. "You want the gory details, I'll give you the gory details."

* * *

There were corpses scattered about. Some weren't even stiff yet. The guards that attacked them were ranting, mindless, practically throwing themselves on the sword of Fenris. Hawke put up a wall of fire, only to have the guards burn themselves to death trying to charge through it. Anders put up a barrier just in time to keep one of the men from slamming into Sebastian. "Bartrand…" Varric looked away. "What have you done?" He'd known some of those men. Some of them had served the house for a long time.

More bodies were strewn about. From the looks of things, the guards had been fighting each other, when they weren't slaughtering the other servants. In the kitchen, the blood was still sticky on the floor. He was actually starting to worry about Bartrand.

A shadow moved upstairs. And then a voice. "Varric? Is that you? Praise the Ancestors."

Varric held up a fist to his companions. "Hold up—I know this man. He's Bartrand's steward." He turned his attention to a dwarf that emerged from one of the rooms. "Hugin? What happened here?"

Hugin was pale. "Varric, your brother…" He inhaled, and wouldn't meet Varric's eyes. "That statue he brought out of the Deep Roads… Bartrand said it sang to him. Even after he sold it. I've been hiding in here, but the guards…" He gestured. "They're like crazed animals. I didn't dare go past them. Everyone in this house has gone mad."

Hawke knelt next to the body of one of the guards. He and Anders exchanged a look before Hawke turned his gaze to Hugin. "What did he do to the guard to turn them to this?"

"He's been forcing them to eat lyrium. Some of the servants, he…" Hugin swallowed. "Cut pieces off them while they were still alive. He says he's trying to help them hear the song. Please, stop him."

"Bartrand's not exactly a nice guy, but…" Varric shook his head. "This doesn't sound like my brother."

"He's hearing things…" Hugin gestured. "Seeing things…" He gave Varric an apologetic look. "Talking to someone who's not there. That's when he's feeling good. Bartrand took the servants and locked himself inside the study. No one's come out for days. And those sodding lunatics just keep prowling the halls."

"Everything will be all right. You're safe now," Hawke assured.

"I wish I can believe that human," said Hugin.

Varric gestured for Hugin to leave, and then hefted Bianca. "Then we go in after him. Come on, Hawke. Let's finish this."

* * *

Bartrand had three arrows in him, a gash across his side, and half his beard singed off before he stopped attacking and started ranting again. "I can't…" He lifted his hands. "I can't…" He shook his head. "Hear it anymore. I just need to hear the song again." He looked around wildly. "Just for a minute." He gestured wildly. "Stop saying that. I know I shouldn't have sold the idol to that woman. It was a mistake. A mistake…"

Varric held up a hand to stop his friends from attacking before stepping forward. "Bartrand, get ahold of yourself. Do you know where you are? Do you know what you've done?" He wasn't sure which answer would be worst, actually.

His brother actually smiled at him. "Varric. You'll help me, won't you, little brother? Help me find it again? You were always the good one…"

"Help you?" Varric just stared. "Bartrand, you left me to die. You left all your men to die. And for what? Some trinket?" He was surprised, even after three years, how much it still hurt. He turned away, and gestured at the carnage. "Look at yourself. Look at what you've done to the men and women who served you. Where's your nobility, Brother? Where's your dwarven honour?" He sighed, then looked helplessly at Hawke and Anders.

Anders shook his head. "This doesn't feel natural. If he wasn't a dwarf, I'd think a demon did this. His mind has been…" Anders took a step closer to Bartrand, narrowing his eyes. "Poisoned by something powerful." He gestured, the blue light of his magic surrounding his hands. His eyes half closed in concentration as he wove the spell into Bartrand. "That's all I can do." He gave Varric an apologetic look. "It won't last. I'm sorry."

Varric slowly turned back to his brother. Bartrand was looking around, his face growing horrified. "Varric?"

"I'm here." He didn't know what else to say.

"Varric, what have I done?"

"I don't know." He was almost grateful he didn't. "I honestly don't know."

Bartrand put his hands on Varric's shoulders. "Make it stop, little brother. Don't let me…" His voice was pleading. "Don't let House Tethras fall like this. I know…" There were actual tears in Bartrand's eyes. "I don't deserve it. But please, Varric. Don't leave me like this. Make it stop."

"Enough with the speeches. I'll get you to a healer, and you'll be fine." He'd told more blatant lies. He glanced back at his companions. Hawke nodded. He turned back to Bartrand. "Sit tight, Brother. Help is on the way."

* * *

His friends stayed with him until Bartrand had been taken away. There were a few hours left before dawn. He started walking, then slowed, and sighed. Hawke put a hand on his shoulder. "Did you need something, Varric?"

"A stiff drink, maybe. I feel like I've been kicked by a horse." He shook his head. It would have been easier if Bartrand had just been gloating about his wealth, and he'd been able to put a crossbow bolt between his eyes. "You'd think being left for dead in the Deep Roads would have prepared me for Bartrand going nuts, but it really didn't."

"If I ever had doubts about who was the better brother, their long gone. You did good."

To his surprise, the remark actually helped more than sympathy would have. Hawke was Hawke, and if anyone understood dealing with crazy people… Varric actually smiled. "Please, Hawke, there was never any doubt. I'm the handsome, in irresistible charming one." He sighed. "Deal with Bartrand somehow. Maker, that'll be even more of a joy than it used to be." He adjusted his glove. "I still can't believe…" He sighed again. "What he did in that house. It's one thing to walk away and leave us to die, but that?"

"He didn't do this on his own. The artefact from the thaig warped his mind."

"Don't let completely off the hook. He chose the steel the damned thing. He brought this on himself." Varric shrugged. "Anyway, thank you. I'll keep looking into who bought that blighted statue. At the very least, they need to be warned about what happened." He started heading back towards Lowtown, but Hawke's hand on his shoulder became firm as he steered him towards the estate instead.

* * *

"What the idol drove that man to do…" Leliana shook her head.

Cassandra nodded. "We should examine Bartrand, before we leave. See how much of the truth Varric is telling."

"Oh, I think he was telling the truth. Why would he lie about the fate of his brother? I'm concerned about this idol and I'm starting to wonder if it had something to do with this dilemma where having."

"I suppose will know soon enough."


	21. Dissent

Hawke checked on Anders as he how he was faring in his clinic, fortunately the templars is didn't seem interested in the clinic itself. No doubt they believe that he was just a healer and his patients never mentioned to them that he was a mage, no doubt out of gratitude.

When he entered Anders looked troubled and he looked relieved to see Hawke. "Have you noticed how many Tranquil are in the Gallows courtyard lately?" Anders asked. "And don't tell me I'm just sensitive to it. I've been watching and every day there are new Tranquil, selling their bloody wares. Good mages, too. People I know passed their Harrowing."

Hawke frowned. "Doesn't Chantry law say that mages who passed their Harrowing can't be made Tranquil?"

Anders nodded. "Exactly. The templars are using the Rite of Tranquility to silence those who speak against them. They're working on a deliberate plan to turn every mage in Kirkwall within the next three years."

Hawke had a hard time to believe that that the grand cleric and the knight-commander would do such a thing. "Whatever you think of templars, you can't imagine they're so heartless—"

"They're worse," Anders growled angrily. "There are groups in Kirkwall who help those fleeing the Circle. I've talked to people on the inside. The plan is the work of a templar named Ser Alrik. I've had a run-in with him myself. He's the one who did the ritual on Karl. Nasty piece of work, likes to make mages beg."

He remembered Karl. His eyes narrowed. "What happened between you and Ser Alrik?"

"I've been involved in an…" Anders sighed reluctantly before continuing. "Underground resistance. Mages, living free in Kirkwall, who help others escape. I can't tell you any more, for your sake and theirs. You have too much involvement with the Guard and nobility. Suffice it to say, I've been in the Gallows. I've seen his work first-hand."

"What else do you know about Ser Alrik?"

"The knight-commander is at least sincere in her convictions. However misguided, she believes she's helping people. Ser Alrik's a sadist. Cold-blooded as a lizard. He likes to experiment on mages, find out what it takes to push them into the arms of demons."

"Then perhaps the blame can be laid on him, and not every templar?" Hawke suggested. He knew there were a few bad templars, but there are several good ones like Thrask and the templar that helped his father.

"That's what I hope," said Anders. "If we bring the evidence of this plan to light, there must be men who'll stand against it. Perhaps even the grand cleric will finally be forced to act."

He then looked around to make sure they weren't overheard and leaned in towards Hawke. "My friends in the mage underground know a way inside. A secret entrance under the walls of the Gallows. Come with me, tonight, please. Help me find evidence of Ser Alrik's 'Tranquil Solution'."

"What do you mean, 'Tranquil Solution?'"

"That's what he calls it. His idea of a 'peaceful' solution to the mage problem—to sunder the mind of every mage in the Free Marches. I'm told he's bringing his proposal to Val Royeaux, to the Divine herself. He would turn every mage in Thedas into a drooling simpleton under his command."

Hawke nodded. "I wouldn't let you face this alone."

Anders' gave him a relieved and hopeful smile. "You are the one bright light in Kirkwall. I've always feared being made Tranquil. Now more than ever. I'm ready to go when you are. Our entrance is concealed not far from here."

* * *

Varric and Merrill join alongside them when they heard about this solution.

After the clinic was clear, Anders led them further into Darktown to a sewer entrance. "This is it. This tunnel will take us into the Gallows. Are you ready to help me find evidence of the 'Tranquil Solution'?"

"Let's go." Hawke nodded.

* * *

They fought their way through a group of lyrium smugglers, then travelled further through the tunnel. Hawke tried very hard not to think about how much water was over their heads.

He heard voices. Several men and… He narrowed his eyes. A girl. Pleading. "No… please. I haven't done anything wrong."

An older templar was standing over a girl in mage robes. She couldn't have been much older than fourteen or fifteen. "That's a lie. What do we do to mages who lie?" The templar's voice was soft and cruel.

"I just wanted to see my mum." Tears fell from the girl's eyes. "No one ever told her where they were taking me."

Beside him, he heard Anders whisper. "No. No, this is their place. We cannot—"

Hawke feared what came next and feared most of all what he would do.

"So, you admit to your attempted escape?" Alrik's voice was smug as he moved closer to the girl. "You know what happens to mage girls who don't toe the line around here, don't you?" Hawke glanced at his other two companions. Varric looked horrified, while Merrill looked disgusted.

"Please, no. Don't make me Tranquil. I'll do anything."

"That's right. Once you're Tranquil, you'll do anything I ask." Alrik started to reach for the girl.

"What are you doing to that girl?" Hawke yelled.

Alrik turned towards him. "Who's this?"

Anders began to glow. The voice of Justice rang out through the chamber. "You fiends will never touch a mage again."

The templars quickly drew their blades and attacked them, Anders slammed his staff onto the ground and at once five templar burst into flames. Merrill quickly ran over to the girl in order to protect while the rest of them dealt with the Templars.

Alrik raised his blade at Hawke and used his abilities to prevent him from using magic. Fortunately, Hawke's father taught him how to fight without using magic and used his staff to block the sword and twisted his body so that he could throw Alrik off balance and then he stabbed him with the spear end of his staff.

He then looked down at the other dead Templars. Unfortunately none of them was Karras, but Hawke figured it was too much to hope for. Hawke started to put his staff away, then hesitated. Anders was still glowing. "They will die. I will have every last templar for these abuses."

"It's over Anders." He held up a hand. "They're all dead." He really hoped he wasn't going to fight the spirit.

The spirit continued to rant. "Every one of them will feel justice's burn."

The girl scrambled backwards. "Get away from me, demon."

"I am no demon." Justice started moving towards her. "Are you one of them, that you would call me such?"

"Anders, that girl is a mage." Hawke moved and he and Merrill placed themselves between the spirit and the girl. Varric had his hand on the Bianca. "We rescued her from being made Tranquil."

"She is theirs." Justice narrowed his eyes. "I can feel their hold on her."

"She's the reason you're fighting, Anders. Don't turn on her now." Please don't make me hurt you. And please don't hurt anyone.

"Please, messere…" the girl begged.

Justice started to raise his staff, and Hawke started to call up a barrier as he moved to interpose himself between the girl and the demon.

And then the glow vanished. Anders fell to his knees, and started shaking his head. "Maker, no. I almost…" He looked up at Hawke, his face horrified. "If you weren't here…" He scrambled to his feet. "I-I need to get out of here." He fled.

Hawke looked down at the girl, who was staring at him. "You-you saved my life, messere. What was that thing?"

"He's no demon," Hawke said. It wasn't the entire truth, but neither was a lie. "Just a deeply troubled man." That had been far closer than he liked. For a moment…

"Can I…" The girl looked around, glancing at his other two companions before turning her gaze back to him. "Go home now?"

"Find your parents, but don't stay there. You must leave Kirkwall." While he knew there were some good templars, he was afraid of the knight commander might point the death of Alrik onto the girl.

"I know. There's no in the city where Sir Alrik's men won't find me." She nodded. "Thank you again, messere. Andraste herself must have put you in that room." She fled through the tunnels.

Hawke closed his eyes for a moment, then bent to search Alrik's body. He read over the letter quickly before showing it to the others.

"Blondie wasn't far off," said Varric.

"You heard Alrik. That girl wasn't his first." Hawke stood, and kicked the man's body. "Too many damned monsters and fools on both sides."

"We're fortunate we came for that poor girl," said Merrill.

* * *

They walked to the clinic to find Anders furiously sorting things into two piles. "Trash. Trash. Keep. Trash. Trash… Won't be needing that anymore."

At least he was keeping something. Hawke walked towards him. "You're upset. We need to talk about it."

"Upset doesn't begin to cover it?" Anders stood. "You were the only thing that kept me from murdering an innocent girl. It's all gone wrong." Slowly he turned to face them. "You were right. Justice and I… it's a twisted us both into something… monstrous natural."

"So you're just going to stop?" Hawke asked. "Let the templars win?"

"Maybe they deserve to win. Maybe they're right. How can I fight for the freedom of mages, when I am the example of the worst that freedom brings?"

"Mages are dangerous." Hawke gestured at himself. "That's why this has been so hard. Make yourself the proof that we can control our powers."

"I don't know how. How can I even trust myself to heal anymore? What if that… creature of vengeance turns on a patient? Will he… will I… resist? Or will I loose his fury?" Ander's voice was thick with emotion.

"You were out of control." Hawke put his hands on the other man's shoulders. "But even then, you heard what I was saying. You knew, in your heart, that you had to stop."

"You have too much faith in me. Without you, I'd never have known who was there until it was too late." He sighed. "Did you… find anything on Ser Alrik? Or was the 'Tranquil Solution' just another of my delusions?"

"It exists, but it was Ser Alrik's plan, no one else's." He offered Anders the documents.

"Let me see that. The Divine…" Slowly a trace of a smile appeared. "Rejected the idea. Meredith rejected the idea. This was…" He shook his head. "Not what I expected. Perhaps I should try talking to the grand cleric. Maybe she's more reasonable than I thought. Thank you. I will think on what you've said."

* * *

"Isn't Ser Alrik exactly what the Seekers are supposed to prevent?"

Cassandra nodded. "We'd heard rumours about Kirkwall, but…" She sighed. "Well, you heard many of the same ones. With the Resolutionists, we…" She shook her head. "We should have looked deeper. Assuming, of course, the dwarf is telling the truth."

"The Divine received such a proposal. And she did, indeed, reject it." Leliana's voice was quiet.

"You know this for fact?"

"I was in the room when she read it over. It infuriated her that anyone could consider such a thing."

After a moment, Cassandra nodded. "Yet, if Varric is telling the truth, it seems Alrik was going ahead with the plan anyway, and the Champion learned of it."

"And even with Alrik's death, there remained others. Such as this Karras. We can talk to Cullen about him and Alrik later, see what else he can add."


	22. The Long Road

Hawke got a message from Aveline to meet her in her office at the keep. The moment he entered her expression was a little odd, actually. It wasn't often she actually looked… relieved… to see him. "Hawke. I need…" She hesitated. "A favour that I can only trust to you."

"You can always ask."

"It should be a small matter, but I worry." If she was worried, he was going to need an army. Or at least Varric, Isabela, Merrill, and Anders as well as Fenris and Sebastian. "I need you to give something to Guardsman Donnic. Here, in the barracks. No questions, and he is not to know it's from me."

What? He blinked. "Donnic? The one we pulled from an ambush?"

"The event that put me here. But this is…" She couldn't meet his eyes. "A different need of the guard and its captain." She managed something that might have been an attempt at a glare, but since it was directed at his elbow, it really didn't have much effect. "And you're doing very badly at the 'no questions' part."

Hawke shook his head and held out his hand for whatever it was. "Very well, Aveline. If it means so much to you."

"Thank you. And please, hurry back with his reaction." She handed it over. It seemed less demonic than he was expecting. "I appreciate this, Hawke. I really do."

* * *

"Guardsman Donnic."

"Serah Hawke. It's been some time. You're here in Hightown now, right? I think the captain mentioned it. I see your uncle now and then on my patrols but…" Donnic shrugged. "We don't talk."

"No ill effects from the ambush, I trust?"

"They got me pretty good, I'll admit, but they fared worse, so I can't complain." Donnic smiled. "Guard is a good career if you're careful. A short one if you're not. And the captain makes sure we're careful."

Hawke shrugged, and handed over the package. "This is for you. It's apparently very important."

"I'll take your word." Donnic unwrapped the package, and gave it an odd look. Hawke couldn't blame him. "It's a copper relief of…" He squinted. "Marigolds? And it helpfully says so. 'Marigolds.'" He looked up at Hawke. "Well. How crafty. Is there a meaning to this that I should know?"

Probably. But Aveline hadn't bothered to tell him. "Just keep it. I'm sure it's more than it seems."

"It would have to be." Donnic backed away from him slightly. "Right. I'm sure we both have things to do. Of varying import. Serah Hawke." He gave a small bow before leaving.

He turned and looked at Merrill and Isabela, who were both as confused as he was.

"Is there some reason Aveline just made us look like idiots?" Isabela asked.

That was an excellent question and he felt extremely embarrassed.

* * *

She was pacing. Nervously. "You're back. Of course you are. You're efficient. Get things done. Good or ill." She fidgeted. Aveline was actually fidgeting. "So, how did Donnic react?"

"As one might expect when confused?"

"I thought it was clear. Metal is strong. Copper ages well. Flowers are soft." He just stared at her blankly. She sighed, and started pacing again. "I've clearly gone about this the wrong way. Don't talk to him again. Just… take this. The patrols for next week. Post it to the roster and just… listen." She shifted from foot to foot. "I want his honest reaction without the captain present."

What he wouldn't give for a nice blood mage right about now. Then things would be making something approaching sense. "You could just have him hauled off."

"This isn't about an accusation I can put in a report and explain. I need someone…" She sighed. "Unofficial."

Hawke shook his head. "All right. Posting the roster just over there."

"I need to know exactly how he reacts. That's key." She smiled nervously. "Thank you."

Merrill followed him out. "This is weird. Right?"

Hawke nodded, and put up the roster. He walked a few paces away, close enough to overhear but far enough to make it look like he was merely waiting for Aveline rather than eavesdropping. At least, that was the idea. Fortunately, the guardsmen were used to his presence and few looked twice other than to give him a friendly nod.

"Hey, Donnic," Brennan called out. "Whose pucker have you been greasing to get Hightown?"

Donnic walked over to her. "What? You're daft. I'm working dockside on those smugglers."

She gestured at the roster. "Says here you're guarding the square. Always been a make-work job, that one. You someone's pet?"

Donnic was clearly irritated. "Check your eyes. It's a mistake." He peered at the roster himself, and then groaned. "You have got to be kidding me. What did I do to get that post?"

Hawke sighed, and headed back to Aveline's office.

* * *

"Donnic thinks I'm punishing him? But Hightown is a safe patrol. A reward."

"You wanted his reaction." Hawke narrowed his eyes at her. She had to be messing with him. He was getting tired of these antics.

She sighed. "All right, I can fix this. I need…" She paced back and forth. "I need three goats and a sheaf of wheat. You'll take them to his mother." She turned towards him and caught the look on his face. "It's a dowry tradition. Maybe it will smooth the process."

Isabela looked up and smirked. "Hold a moment. You're sweet on the boy!"

Aveline glared at her. "So help me, Aveline. I will break you."

Isabela laughed. "Oh, this is glorious. All this flirting is her idea of courtship."

Merrill practically squealed with excitement.

Hawke ran a hand down his face. If he laughed, she'd hit him. "Aveline. You know you could talk to me."

She leaned against the wall, her arms folded. "What am I to say? That a grown woman can't speak her mind? I've been focused on being captain for so long, that's all I know."

Merrill looked at her slightly confused. "But you've done it before. I mean, been married."

"That was…" She started to get defensive, and then sighed. "A long time ago. It was easier. Or seemed to be."

"I can't imagine you having trouble speaking your mind." Hawke had never seen her like this before.

"It's just…" She unfolded and refolded her arms. "Fear. I know it's foolish, but I can't get away from it." She raised an eyebrow. "What about you and Merrill? She's all but daring the Fade to take her. How do you deal with the danger of your lives?"

Maker's breath, did everyone know? He and Merrill exchanged a look, and he sighed. "Maybe we're not the best example." Quite possibly they were the absolute worst example.

She seemed oblivious to the look. "But you understand. I feel paralysed. I hate it."

"So you've been by yourself since we came to Kirkwall?" The moment the words exited from his lips he regretted immensely.

He regretted even more when Isabela said, "Wait, you've gone for years without? You must create like a rusty hinge."

Aveline glared at her. "Many people have their lives because of me."

"But poor you, no life of your own."

"We both place others above ourselves. I happened to do it clothed."

Hawke and Merrill looked between Aveline and Isabela like it was some sort of game. It got even more intense when the two of them walked up to one another and glared at each other.

"You're splitting hairs, but wishing someone would split yours."

"I've had enough of your lips. Like many, I'm sure."

"Oh, touché. Prig!"

"Slattern!"

Hawke quickly placed himself between the two ladies, fearing that it would end up with several broken teeth and cracked ribs. "If I might put this back on track."

He breathed a sigh of relief when the two women walked away from each other, though they were still glaring.

"I can drag him in here right now," Hawke offered. "Just say the word."

"Oh, and how would that look." She glared at him. "The captain ordering her guardsman to… to…" She caught his facial expression, and her glare intensified. "It wouldn't help."

Merrill saved him from her wrath. "Being in the barracks doesn't help. Go somewhere where you can talk."

She blinked. "What, just… go out somewhere? Like it's that easy?"

"What?" Hawke's voice was just a tad strangled from his efforts not to laugh. "Too simple?"

"Tell Donnic…" She unfolded her arms. "Invite him to the Hanged Man." She gestured. "Don't tell him about me, make something up. It's a surprise, or just you, or a group. Anything to get him there." She couldn't meet his eyes, and stared instead at his chin. "He's not like the others. I don't want him to think he's meeting the captain."

Hawke sighed, and took a few deep breaths before heading in. Why couldn't it have been demons? "Serah Donnic, are you free? I need ask you something?"

"I have no immediate patrols." Donnic gave him a suspicious look. "Why?"

"A night at the Hanged Man for all the guard. You'll come? Of course, you'll come."

"Should I have heard of this?" Donnic frowned. "Very well, Serah Hawke, I guess I'll be there." He walked off, muttering about it not being good to be the last to hear of things.

* * *

Later that night he was in the Hanged Man with Donnic, but there was no sign of Aveline.

They just sat there in awkward silence. Donnic looked around after a minute. "There were supposed to be others coming, right?"

Hawke glanced over at where Isabela and Merrill were sitting. At a different table. Isabela looked highly amused while Merrill just gave him a sympathetic look. "Plans change, apparently."

"Just… give it a moment."

Donnic sat back down and after about ten minutes there was still no sign of Aveline. If she wasn't the guard-captain he would have killed her.

"Another round?" Hawke asked.

"Maker, yes."

At least he wasn't the only one feeling awkward. Varric was now at the table with Merrill and. From the look on the dwarf's face, his so-called 'friends' were filling him in. If this ended up in one of Varric's stories… And where the hell was Aveline?

Donnic narrowed his eyes. Next thing he knew, he was getting a lecture from the man. On… the best way to go about courting Aveline. "Look, if this was all a plan for you to get closer to the captain, maybe you should just talk to her. I mean, how sad would it be if you needed a go-between. Have some backbone." Varric actually fell out of his chair. Donnic stood. "I have to go. Thanks for the drink."

He sighed, and drained his own glass as the other table broke into laughter. "Where is she?"

"Varric's room," Merrill said nervously.

* * *

"I… I couldn't do it." Aveline was sitting at Varric's desk. "What did he say?"

"He thinks I arranged this to get to you." He could hear several sniggers behind him and you have the others had followed him. The only thing holding Isabela up was the wall.

"I'm an idiot," Aveline said.

"Admitting it is a good step." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Where are you heading next?"

"The barracks. Ferelden? The deepest hole I can find?"

Hawke shook his head. "You've never been the hiding type."

"I know, all right, but I freeze up." She shook her head. "The only place I'm not a mess is on patrol." She shrugged. "And killing highwaymen doesn't afford much opportunity for banter."

Merrill stood at his shoulder. "Come on, you want this!"

"I will not risk…"

"But… look at you two."

"I think that pretty much forces the issue," Hawke added.

She was shaking her head again. "But I can't fight and talk…"

Hawke shrugged. "I'll clear the way and you can see if he's the one."

Her smile was warm. "You're too good at this. Is it any wonder you've all but taken Hightown?" She hugged him before leaving.

This had to be the most embarrassing thing in his entire life.

* * *

The next day they began killing bandits on Aveline and Donnic's patrol. They were successful killing the bandits, but Aveline didn't excel with the flirting at all.

Hawke shook his head in disbelief. "Maker, she's bad at this."

He did the same thing after they'd killed another group of bandits. How many bandits were there in Kirkwall, anyway? Maybe Varric had been right about the armada of angry demon pirates. And now Aveline was talking about swords. And not in an innuendo kind of way. "Ugh. Painful."

They took out the last group, and he turned to his companions with a raised eyebrow. He got nods from all of them, and then stepped out into the path. Aveline was coming. "Well, Guardsman, good patrol. I think we're done, and I…" She saw him. "Hawke?" If looks could kill, pieces of him would be washing up from Par Vollen to Orlais. "What a surprise. What are you doing here?"

"Aveline."

"Hawke. Don't."

"I think you'll come around once it's all out in the open."

Donnic looked from him to Aveline, and then back again. "Would someone please tell me what's going on?"

Merrill made a squealing noise. "You two are adorable. Kiss him already."

The look on Donnic's face made the whole thing worth it. Even the fact that Aveline was about to kill them all. "Captain?" Donnic asked.

Aveline gave an awkward laugh.

"I…" Donnic was actually starting to turn red. "Should get back to the barracks." He fled, proving he was the only smart one present.

"I thought we were friends." Aveline narrowed her eyes at him.

"Friends sometimes push."

"I… I have to fix this. He'll file a complaint… ask for a transfer." She poked a finger into his chest hard enough to rock him backwards. "You. You're coming to the barracks to explain why you put him on the spot. Double time, Hawke, or so help me…" She stalked away.

He turned to his companions. Anders was standing behind Isabela, his hand over the woman's mouth. Ah, so that was why she hadn't been offering advice. Sebastian was trying desperately to keep a straight face, and he and Fenris were pointedly not looking at each other. Varric was… taking notes.

He left them all behind when he went to the barracks, it was very nice to know who your friends were.

* * *

When he returned to the barracks he found Aveline was pacing. "Maker, where is Donnic? I have to… head this off before it goes to the viscount." She wrung her hands. "Maybe a formal apology. Something that shows the guards they can still trust me."

Hawke rolled his eyes. "You're the captain, not a golem. They expect you to have feelings."

"Not if they get in the way of the job."

"You don't know that."

"I won't be that stupid again."

They were then interrupted by a cough from Donnic. "My apologies, Serah Hawke, but I need a moment with the captain."

"Guardsman Donnic?"

He watched the two go into her office, and moved to where he could best eavesdrop. He'd been standing there only a few moments when he heard perhaps the most disturbing sound ever. Aveline. Giggling.

He tried to fight the temptation, but it was too much for him and he looked through the keyhole. He quickly pulled away and was extremely glad that Isabela wasn't here. He had an informal the guardsmen that Aveline was not to be disturbed and when they asked about the panting and groaning noises from inside the office he simply told them that she was sparring with Donnic.

He stood out there for what felt like an hour before Donnic emerged from the office looking a bit sweaty and worn out. He nodded at Hawke and walked off and he can help but notice that his armour was slightly askew.

He then went to meet Aveline, whose hair was askew and he couldn't help but notice the scattered paper over the floor.

"Aveline."

"Guardsman Donnic…" She smiled. "Did not file a complaint." She laughed softly. "This was all incredibly stupid. And you made it wonderful."

"I think you can safely claim both halves of that pair."

"You're sweet." She smiled. "I knew asking you was the right thing."

"Let's not make a habit of it."

"I just…" She shook her head. "There's no way I can ever repay you." She kissed his cheek. "Perhaps it's simple. Thank you." She started to walk back to her desk, and then turned. "Hey, can I ask you something?" When he shrugged, she continued. "Was there a moment when you thought I was beyond help?"

He'd counted forty-seven. "Not for a second."

She shook her head. "You don't live very well."

"As far as you know."

"Shout when you need me, Hawke. I'll always be here for you. Just…" Her smile became mischievous. "Knock first."

* * *

"What has that got to do with the story?" Cassandra asked impatiently.

Leliana looked slightly amused. "I don't know, I found it quite romantic."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "But it has nothing to do with the Champion's involvement with the incident."

"I don't know, he had to gain the loyalty of guard-captain Aveline somehow or else she would not have helped. Plus, I think he mainly told us this just to annoy her."

Cassandra shook her head. "For his sake the next thing he has to tell us had better be useful."


	23. Night Terror

Hawke got a message from Arianni telling him that her son was in danger and that she was begging for his help. He headed straight down to the Alienage with Fenris, Isabela and Anders.

Arianni met them in front of her house. She smiled with relief when she saw them. "I was hoping you would come. You did so much for my Feynriel already, but…" Her smile fell. "I visited him among the People, but he turned me away. I know the demons still plague him." She shook her head frantically. "And now they've taken him. Two days ago, Feynriel went into a nightmare and hasn't returned."

"He can't be woken up?"

She nodded. "The Keeper said he is near death. His lips still fog a mirror, but that is all."

He vaguely recalled something his father had mentioned. "Surely there are mages who can pursue him in the Fade."

She gestured for them to enter the house. "I have contacted Keeper Marethari. The Dalish have an ancient ritual that might help. But it requires someone Feynriel trusts to enter the Fade to free him."

Hawke nodded. "I have braved the Fade before. Perhaps I can aid him."

She smiled. "You have been so kind to us. Feynriel thinks of you as a true friend. Marethari is coming to perform the ritual that will bring Feynriel back. His childhood things here will help anchor him."

"Frolic through dreams?" Isabela blinked. "Sounds like an experience. I'm game."

The look of hero worship on Arianni face made him uncomfortable. "I've already called for the Keeper. We need to begin the ritual as quickly as possible. Would you like to stay here or return when she arrives?"

Hawke shook his head. "This is too urgent to delay."

A tear fell from her eyes. "You have been far kinder than I had any right to expect."

* * *

The elves in the alienage treated the Keeper much like the people of Lowtown would have treated a visit from the Divine. She greeted them before heading to where they were waiting, and entered Arianni's home. "I came quickly, Arianni. I did not wish to tell you by letter how grave your son's situation is." She gestured. "The magic he possesses makes him what the Tevinters called ' _somniari_ ,' a dreamer. Dreamers have the power to control the Beyond, what humans call 'the Fade.' Feynriel is the first in two ages to survive."

Hawke nodded. "What exactly are we going to do here?"

"The elves of the Dales were experts in the _somniari_ arts. They could even help those with no power enter the Fade. I have done my best to recreate the ritual. We will use Feynriel's childhood home as a focus to draw him back through the Veil."

"Just send me into the Fade."

"I told you he was amazing," Arianni said. There was so much hope on her face. He found himself really, really hoping he wouldn't let her down.

Keeper Marethari nodded to Arianni. "Now, Arianni, please excuse us. We must prepare."

"Oh, of course." Arianni gave him one more worshipful look, then went to go busy herself sweeping the spotless porch.

The Keeper took his arm, and pulled him away into the other room. "There is more I must tell you that is not for her ears."

That sounded bad. "Is Feynrial in danger?"

She nodded. "Indeed. The danger may not come from what you think." She gestured. "Feynriel cannot become an abomination. The destruction he would cause is unimaginable." She met his eyes, and gave him a look that made him realise just what the title of Keeper really meant. "If you cannot save him from the demons, you must kill him yourself. A death in the Fade will make him what your Circle calls 'Tranquil'. He will be no threat after."

He nodded grimly, he didn't like it, but he understood. "I will not let him become a danger."

Her nod was grave. "I wish you luck." She glanced at the others. "Gather your friends, and we will began. Be careful, for all will face temptation."

Isabela grinned. "I never give into temptation."

"I worry what a journey to the Fade might bring out in me," Anders said. That was true, but it was also a risk they had to take, they needed a guide and he was the best they had.

Hawke's eyes went to Fenris. He nodded. "I have no desire to explore the Fade, but if you need me I will go."

The Keeper directed them all to lie down, and began a chant. Within moments, his eyes were heavy, and he slipped across.

* * *

They found themselves in what appeared to be the templar hall. It was definitely the Fade. Items moved of their own accord, and here and there books and candles floated.

The voice behind him was deep, resonant. And the last time he'd heard it, it had been ranting. "I had not thought to return in such a way." He turned, and saw Anders was glowing. The spirit actually smiled. "It is good to feel the breath of the Fade again, not the empty air of your world."

"You look…" He shrugged. "Different."

"I am Justice. Anders has told you of me." The spirit strode forward. "Come. I sense Feynriel's mind straining. We will not have much time."

Hawke glanced at his companions. Fenris was clearly on edge, but Isabela just looked fascinated. He shrugged, and followed the spirit. If anyone did know the way…

They hadn't gone far when a demon approached them. "Well…" Its voice was soft, indolent. "It's rare to see two forgotten magics in one day."

Justice narrowed his eyes. "A demon of sloth. It exists to make men forget their purpose and their pride—do not relax around it."

"Call me Torpor. I have a proposition that might interest you."

It had to be kidding. One would think with the number of demons he'd killed over the past couple years, word would have spread. "I will not give in to temptation, fiend." He reached for his staff.

"Have it your way." The demon attacked.

* * *

Justice led them to a door. "Desire," the spirit said. Hawke, and stepped through.

And found himself wearing the form of Arianni. Well, that was disconcerting. Maybe he wouldn't mention this to her. He continued forward, and saw a man he recognised as Vincento standing over a younger version of Feynriel. "That's it, Feynriel. Hard on the downstroke, then lift. Good." The man smiled, a proud father. "I'll have you scribing all my letters soon. If I'd known you were such a bright lad, I'd have brought you into the business years ago."

The boy's eyes were wide, eager and hopeful. "Does that mean I can come with you to Antiva, Father? Mother said maybe this summer… Right, Mother?"

It took several seconds to realise he was talking to him. Pull the strings, and let the illusion come apart. "Your father never wanted anything to do with you. Don't trust him."

Feynriel blinked, and then turned to Vincento. "Why are you lying to me?"

"Don't listen, Son. She's always been ashamed of you. She wanted you gone so she could go back to the Dalish. I'm the one who loves you."

"But…" Feynriel found the string, and pulled. "Why can't I remember you?"

Another string. "This is a trick, Feynriel. He wants something from you."

"Why…?" The boy took it, and pulled again, fraying the edges. "That's right. I spent my whole childhood waiting for you."

"Your mother never allowed—" The demon tried to put the pieces back together.

"My mother loves me. She showed me the letters she wrote you. You never wrote back." The boy shoved the papers off the desk. "And it was Mother who taught me to write, not you. I've never met you before. Who are you?"

"Don't… question…" It fell apart, and the demon was forced back to her normal form. "…me." Feynriel cried out and fled. She glared at them. "You. You turned him against me."

He drew his staff. "And now you're going to die."

She smiled. "Take away my pets, and I'll take away yours. How loyal are these friends you drag into the Fade?" She turned her eyes to Isabela. "Would your pirate queen stay if the open water beckoned? What do you say, sweetheart? A two-mast brigantine, square-main topsail…" The smile became lascivious. "A hundred well-built lads to answer your every whim. I know you've been looking for a stiff masthead."

He admitted that he shouldn't have brought Isabela into anything involving a desire demon. "This is a demon, Isabela. Don't let attempt you."

"Well, if it wasn't a demon. I wouldn't think it would grant wishes!"

"The 'Siren's Call Two' awaits in Kirkwall Harbour. I'll be under the furs in the captain's quarters.""

"I like big boats," Isabela drew her daggers. "I cannot lie."

At once the three of them were now in the battle against the desire demon and Isabela. Justice and Fenris charged at the desire demon while Hawke dealt with Isabela. He didn't want to do this, but it was for her own good and fired a fireball straight at her.

"She will awaken," Justice told them as he and Fenris put down the desire demon."

Hawke nodded. "I hope you are right."

* * *

They had to fight their way through an army of rage demons, but with a combined ice spells of Hawke and Justice they were able to slaughter them and approached another door.

"Pride," said the spirit.

He wasn't entirely sure whose form he wore at the moment. By all pretences he was an elven mage and judging by the robes he was from the Circle.

Keeper Marethari was giving a speech. "My people, I present to you…" She gestured at Feynriel. "Our hope. He came to use to learn his heritage, to release the power from a lineage as ancient as our race."

"I…" Feynriel's face was wondrous. "I don't know what to say…"

Find the strings. "This is a trick."

"First Enchanter? What are you doing here?" Feynriel shook his head. "Mother told me the Dalish are honourable. Why would the Keeper lie?"

So he was the First Enchanter at least now he knew what he looked like if they never met. One potential bit of awkwardness dealt with. "Why would she entrust her people to a human?" He felt cold for saying it, even if he knew it to be true.

The demon that was pretending to be Marethari turned to Feynriel. "You are one of us, Feynriel. Your magic will restore our greatness."

"But…" And once again, Feynriel caught the string and pulled. "You told me this magic was outlawed for a reason. Even the Dalish don't practice it anymore."

"Could the elves trust you with the power to shape reality?"

"I—" Feynriel hesitated.

"Could you trust yourself?"

"Don't listen to him." The demon tried to draw Feynriel back. "The first enchanter is trying to keep you from realising your greatness."

Feynriel pulled it apart. "Trying to keep me from temptation, just like you were. You're not the Keeper." The boy raised a fist. "Begone, fiend."

When the walls came down, Feynriel vanished. And Hawke was left facing a pride demon. The demon turned its head towards him. "With my power joined to his, Feynriel would have changed the world."

"The boy only wants his freedom, not your power."

The demon showed a hint of fang. "Those were free to choose, always want think your friends are different?" It gestured at Fenris. "You think this slave would choose you over his freedom?"

"Cast your eyes elsewhere, demon." Fenris gestured, and Hawke smiled. "I won my freedom from the magisters long ago."

"But you fear them still." The demon's voice was soothing. "They have left their marks on your body and your mind. With my aid, you could be free forever. You could have power enough to challenge any who would chain you."

Hawke shook his head. "If you accept, you are no better than the magistrates."

"But…" Fenris looked at him. "To face them as an equal? I…" He looked back at the demon. "What…" This was not good. "Would you want from me?"

"A moment of your time, nothing more."

If Justice hadn't been present, it might have ended there. The barrier came into place just in time to block Fenris' swing. Hawke shook his head and drew his own staff. Reluctantly he blasted Fenris with a bolt of lightning. While Justice created a massive tempest destroying the demon.

The spirit nodded, and they walked again back to the central chamber. Feynriel was waiting for them.

"I'm not sure if this is real. If so, it is the second time I owe you my life." The young man smiled. "The Fade feels different now. I see the stitches, the seams holding it together. I feel I could wake at any moment."

"Dreamers control the Fade and the dreams of people in it."

Feynriel nodded. "I see why the Chantry fears us. I've heard tales of magisters who stalked their enemies and used their own dreams to destroy them. You're right. I must master it, find someone to study under. The Dalish do not have what I need." He paced back and forth a few steps. "Perhaps Tevinter. If these powers can be trained, it would be there." He hesitated. "My mother would not look kindly on such a journey. Can you give her my farewell?"

"May the Maker guide your path, Feynriel."

"Perhaps…" Feynriel gestured, and Hawke felt the Fade around them start to shift. It was disconcerting. "There is a way out of this." He inhaled. "I can do this."

* * *

Hawke sat up. He saw Anders do the same thing. The man was no longer glowing. Always a good sign, really. The other two places were empty. Hawke rose, and went to find the Keeper. "Feynriel has mastered his powers."

"Then he lives?" Arianni sagged with relief. "You saved him? I cannot thank you enough." She turned to the Keeper. "Keeper Marethari, may I return with you to the Sunderlands? I would like to ask my son's forgiveness."

"Of course," Marethari said graciously. "It was you who chose to stay away."

"He must go elsewhere to train." Hawke looked from one woman to the other. "There is no one in Kirkwall to help him. He asked me to say goodbye."

"My son. No. I must find him before he goes." Arianni's face nearly turned to panic.

"It is wise for him to seek guidance." Marethari held up a reassuring hand. "Kirkwall cannot provide what he needs." She turned to him. "I truly did not think what you did was possible. You are rare human, indeed."

"Does this mean I'm not getting my ship?" Isabela's voice was joking, but her face was apologetic. "Bugger it all."

Fenris couldn't meet his eyes. "And I must apologise for my weakness. I would have thought myself above such influence."

Anders actually looked smug. "I find there's nothing like being possessed to keep you on the straight-and-narrow."

He'd wade through that particular swamp later. He turned back to Marethari. She gave him a knowing look. "Your friends awakened here some time ago. We all have weaknesses the demons find. You accomplished a miracle with Feynriel." She offered him a tome. "This book belonged to the last dreamer of our tribe. It has a rare magic beyond price. Please accept it with my gratitude."

* * *

Fenris was staring into the fireplace when Hawke entered. He turned, awkwardly. "I have been thinking about what happened in the Fade. That a demon could have played so easily on my fears…" He sighed. "Disturbs me." He looked up, and met Hawke's eyes. "I failed you. I won't let that happen again."

"The demon was using magic on your mind, it's as simple as that."

"And yet he didn't manage influence you," Fenris reminded. It was certainly ironic, that he a mage, didn't fall for temptation while Fenris, who believe that every single mage would not be able to fight off temptation. "As for the boy, we shall see what he becomes, and if he regrets the mercy you provided." He shook his head. "But that is not important now. Let's just hope we face nothing similar in the future."

They faced each other over the game board. The bottle of wine was nearly empty by the time Hawke remembered the book he'd found. "I have something for you."

"It…" Fenris blinked as he accepted it. "It's a book."

"It's a subject you're familiar with." He moved his piece. "The book is by Shartan, the elf who helped Andraste free the slaves. You know about him, right?"

"A little. It's just…" Fenris stared down at the board, hunched a bit awkwardly. "Slaves are not permitted to read. I've never learned."

"It's not too late to learn, Fenris."

"Isn't it?" Fenris moved his own piece. "Sometimes I wonder." He sighed, and then smiled. "I don't mean to seem ungrateful. I do appreciate the thought. I've always wanted to learn more of Shartan. Perhaps this is my chance."

* * *

Isabela and Merrill were sharing a drink at the Hanged Man. "I never have affairs with my crew. Once they see you naked with your ass in the air, they think they don't have to take orders."

Merrill giggled.

"Men," Isabela grunted. "You have to be twice as tough to earn half as much respect."

"So did the crew mutiny?" Merrill asked. "I mean, after… you know…"

Isabela chuckled. "Oh, no. I had the offending members removed. That got rid of the attitude." She then noticed Hawke leaning against the wall smiling. "I—oh, look. It's Hawke." Isabela looked a bit nervous when she caught sight of him.

He shrugged, and walked over, sitting next to Merrill. "We need to talk."

She took a drink, and groaned. "Bugger, I knew this was coming." She sighed. "I'm sorry I abandoned you in the Fade. That was foolish of me." She stuck out her lower lip. "I mean, I didn't even get the ship in the end."

Isabela would remain Isabela. Oddly comforting, in its way. "I don't blame you. I understand what it's like to be under the influence of a demon"

"You…" She blinked. "What? That's it? No angry rant?" She grinned, and gave him a coy look. "Are you trying to get me to jump into bed with you? Because it's working."

He laughed. "Friends forgive each other."

"Now you're making my insides feel squishy." She put a hand on his cheek and pushed playfully. "Oh, go away."

* * *

Cassandra found Leliana staring contemplatively out the window. "Thoughts?"

"I was trapped in the Fade once. I don't know if I ever told you."

"I've read Theron book. At the Circle, yes?"

Leliana nodded. "I know enough to know that the Champion took a massive risk. Keeper Marethari was right when she expressed disbelief at his success." She sighed. "There were a dozen of us trapped at the Circle. One saw through to the path. I expected that story to end in the boy being made Tranquil."

"A _somniari_. And one that owes the Champion a considerable debt." Cassandra nodded. "Yet another thing we must look into. Let us see what else the dwarf can tell us." She started to walk back.


	24. A Bitter Pill

Fenris seemed up for a walk on the coast. He ran into Sebastian on the way out of Hightown. To his surprise, the man offered to come along for the possibility of collecting a few of the seedlings for the Grand Cleric and the Chantry garden. Merrill seemed thrilled about getting out of the city. She and Sebastian quickly got into a discussion regarding some apparent holes in the Chant of Light.

They were halfway up the coast when an arrow struck the ground in front of them. Their eyes went up to the bluffs, where men in Tevinter style armour stood. "Hunters." Fenris all but growled the word.

"Stop right there," one of them called out. "You are in possession of stolen property. Back away from the slave now and you'll be spared."

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "Fenris is a free man!"

"I won't repeat myself. Back away from the slave now."

"I am not your slave," Fenris shouted as his markings began to glow.

The men had bows. He didn't bother to reach for his staff, and went straight for directing a fireball at their feet, exploding the edge of the bluff the men were standing on and eliminating their height advantage. Merrill followed it up with a blast of her own. Sebastian whirled, directing his arrows at the men attempting to come up on them from behind. Fenris showed that it was quite possible for an enraged elf to chop both a man's legs off with a single blow.

Fenris found a survivor among the wreckage they'd splattered all over the place. "Where is he?"

"Please don't kill me."

Fenris smashed the man's face into the ground. "Tell me."

"I don't know. I don't know, I swear. Hadriana brought us. She's at the holding caves north of the city. I can show you the way."

"No need. I know which ones you speak of."

"Then let me go, I beg you!" he begged. "I swear I won't—"

"You chose the wrong master. Fenris then snapped the man's neck. He stood up and faced Hawke. "Hadriana. I was a fool to think I was free. They'll never let me be."

"They need to be stopped before this goes any further," said Hawke collecting couple arrows and handed them to Sebastian.

Fenris nodded. "The holding caves held slaves in the old times, but apparently they are no longer abandoned. We must go quickly, before Hadriana has a chance to prepare… or flee."

"Let's get Aveline, and get moving."

* * *

Varric insisted on coming along. He claimed Bianca would feel left out if she didn't get to kill at least one slaver. Aveline positioned a few of her guards to catch any slavers that tried to flee.

"We must be careful," Fenris said. "There were many such holdings once, especially in the mountains, where individual slavers kept private pens. They were designed to protect against raids by fellow slavers. No doubt it's why Hadriana chose this place."

"Hadriana won't escape us," Hawke said.

"Let's hope this isn't a waste of time." Fenris led them inside.

* * *

Varric heard Hawke actually growl when he saw the drained body of the elven man. Fenris spat. "See for yourself. The legacy of the magisters."

"They sacrifice unwilling?" said Merrill in horror.

"Is that so hard to believe?" Fenris spat. "You're only a step away from it yourself."

"That's not true."

"Believe what you like. In my experience mages always find a way to justify their need for power." Fenris continued walking, Hawke a pace behind him. Varric narrowed his eyes. It was interesting, how often the elf seemed to forget Hawke himself was a mage. He glanced at the body again.

Merrill and Sebastian remained at the rear of the party, while Hawke, Aveline and Fenris took the lead. An arrogant slaver mage tried to use a fire trap as a defence against the warriors. It was rather amusing when Hawke responded by lighting the slaver mage on fire. With Choir Boy's help, he got the traps disarmed.

* * *

A young woman's voice cried out for help. A few moments later, the bits and pieces of her attackers were strewn about the room. Fenris walked up to the slave. "Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?"

Tears stained the girl's face. "They've been killing everyone. They cut papa, bled him…"

"Why?" Fenris shook his head. "Why would they do this?"

"No wonder the Maker left his children," Sebastian said.

"The magister…" The girl gestured. "She said she needed power, that someone was coming to kill her. We tried to be good. We did everything we were told. She loved papa's soup. I don't understand."

Hawke's voice was gentle. "Is the magister still here?"

"I…" The girl nodded. "Think so. The magister said they were to prepare for battle. I think she's very frightened."

"She has every reason to be," Fenris said.

"Please, don't hurt her. She'll be so angry if you hurt her." The girl was close to panic.

"This has been terrible for you," Hawke said.

The tears welled up again. "Everything was fine until today."

"It wasn't." Fenris shook his head. "You just didn't know any better."

"Are you my master now?" The girl asked Fenris.

Under any other circumstances, Varric would have found the expression on the elf's face funny. "No," Fenris said, actually taking a step backwards.

"But… I can cook. I can clean. What else will I do?"

"If you go to Kirkwall, I can help you," Hawke said.

The girl's eyes lit up. "Yes? Oh, praise the Maker. Thank you." She dashed off.

Fenris rounded on Hawke, his expression furious. "I didn't realise you were in the market for a slave."

Hawke's face was just as angry. "I gave her a job, Fenris."

"Ah. Then…" Fenris shook his head. "That's good. My apologies." He turned away awkwardly. "Let's find Hadriana and be done with this place."

* * *

Hadriana seemed to have used the blood she'd drained to summon quite the host of demons. Varric and Sebastian took up back to back positions, targeting demons to keep the warriors from getting surrounded. Hawke simply rained down fire and lightning on everything that wasn't one of his companions. The chaos prevented any of the demons from managing to group up, and kept Hadriana from being able to bring her own magic to bear.

Hawke got the magister with a blast of something, knocking her to the ground just as Aveline finished the last of the demons. Fenris strode up to the fallen woman. "Stop," she called out. "You do not want me dead."

"There is only one person I want dead more." Fenris raised his blade.

"I have information, elf, and I will trade it in return for my life."

Fenris smirked. "The location of Danarius? What good will that do me? I'd rather he lose his pet pupil."

"You have a sister. She is alive." Varric lowered Bianca. The effect of the magister's words on Fenris seemed to approach devastation. She apparently realised the same thing, as she sat up and her expression started to become more confident. "You wish to reclaim your life? Let me go, and I will tell you where she is."

Hawke moved to Fenris's side. "This is your call."

Fenris nodded at him, and then bent down toward the magister. She gave him a hopeful look. "So I have your word? I tell you, and you let me go?"

"Yes." Fenris's eyes narrowed. "You have my word."

"Her name is Varania. She is in Qarinus serving a magister by the name of Ahirman."

"A servant. Not a slave."

"She's not a slave."

"I believe you." Fenris's markings began to glow. He shoved his hand into Hadriana's chest, and there was a rather sickening squishing noise. The magister fell lifelessly to the floor. Fenris stood. "We are done here."

Hawke watched Fenris start to walk away. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Fenris rounded on him. "No, I don't want to talk about it." The elf gestured. "This could be a trap. Danarius could have sent Hadriana here to tell me about this 'sister.' Even if he didn't, trying to find her would still be suicide. Danarius has to know about her and has to know that Hadriana knows." He gestured at the corpse. "But all that matters is I finally got to crush this bitch's heart. May she rot and all other mages with her."

Varric blinked. Hawke's face was expressionless as he watched Fenris rant. "This doesn't mean we shouldn't look for your sister," Hawke said, reaching out to put a hand on Fenris's shoulder.

Fenris shoved him away. "What else should it mean? Even if I found my sister, who knows what the magisters have done to her. What has magic touched that it doesn't spoil?" The elf went silent. He stared at Hawke for a moment as if he was just starting to remember who he was talking to. "I…" He looked down at his hands. "Need to go." He all but fled. Sebastian started to walk after him, but Aveline caught the man's arm.

Hawke stood, watching the other man go. His face was still an expressionless mask. Aveline put a hand on his shoulder. "We should go."

"Right," Hawke said. "Let's see how your guards did." He smiled, but it failed to reach his eyes.

* * *

Hawke checked at the mansion. Fenris wasn't there. He sighed, and went home. His mother was waiting, with the slave girl standing next to her. She raised an eyebrow at him. He sighed, and then looked at the girl. She smiled at him brightly. "Greetings, Master. Your home was difficult to find. I've never been out on my own before. But… I found it. Many people know of you." She glanced at Leandra. "I hope I've made myself useful. I've already begun cleaning, and I can cook… not as good as papa, but a little. Is there…" She looked around the house. "Anything else you'd like me to do?"

He smiled at her. "What sort of skills do you have?"

"Not many, I fear. The magister bade me to clean, and sometimes fetch… but papa told me to keep out of her sight as much as I could." Her face was scared. "But I can learn. I'll serve you well. Please don't hurt me."

The city would eat her alive. "If you're staying here, Orana, it will be as my servant."

She blinked. "You mean…" She looked around uncertainly. "I won't be a slave anymore?"

"You'll be paid, like anyone else."

"I… a slave is all I've ever been, like papa and grandpapa before me. I'll try to be a good servant. Thank you, Master. You're too good to me."

He gestured to Bodhan. "Why don't you set Orana up in a room? Maybe the one by the garden?"

Bodhan nodded, and gestured for the girl to follow him. Hawke turned to face his mother. Leandra sighed. "An elven slave? Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Servant. Not slave," Hawke said. "Her father was murdered, quite possibly in front of her very eyes, just this morning." He shook his head. "Because a blood mage realised we were coming to kill her, and wanted every scrap of power she could call up." He narrowed his eyes. "It didn't help her."

"And that makes you feel responsible?" Leandra shook her head, and then sighed. "Maker, she's all but still a child." She nodded. "She showed up with nothing. We'll need to get her a change of clothes and a few other things, at least. I suppose having a maid isn't a hardship."

* * *

Hawke entered the Chantry the next day and found Sebastian, he had a bow in his hand, a bow that he took from one of the Flint Company mercenaries he killed three years ago. It took a long time to actually find the bow, but now he was presenting Sebastian.

"I think this is yours," he said.

Sebastian stared at the bow. "My grandfather's bow? But… where you get it?"

"One of the Flint Company mercenaries had it."

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "It's… hard to mourn the loss of a thing while my family lies dead. But I did think on it."

"What's the story behind that bow?" Hawke asked.

"As the youngest son, it was my place to lead Starkhaven's militia. But I never had a talent for swordplay. Too much getting hit." He looked at the bow as his hand raised the wood. "My grandfather said the bow is the wise man's weapon. You can defend your city without opening the gates. Grandfather said the day I would pull the string on this bow, it would be mine."

Hawke frowned. "Then why didn't you have it with you?"

"I was thirteen when my grandfather made me that promise. I would rise at dawn to practice my shots until I could hit the eye slit of a helmet from the top of the ramparts." He then closed his eyes. "But… my parents pledged me to the Chantry before I could show him."

"Were you and your grandfather close?" Hawke asked, he had never met his grandparents, but Sebastian's grandfather sounded as wise as his father.

"He was a man of the world—prince of Starkhaven—but he had the most unshakeable faith in the Maker. When my parents threatened to pledge me to the Chantry, he told me he'd gladly trade his title for life of contemplation. 'The Maker ordained a priest for each of us,' I remember him saying, 'We have only to serve'."

Hawke nodded. "I'm sorry I never got the chance to meet them. To… save them."

Sebastian placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know. Your true friend, Hawke. You brought me this to remember and honour them. But if I could bring back our lowest servant by snapping it in half, I do it without regrets."

Before he left the Chantry he had a nice talk with Elthina, who said that his grandparents would be very proud of him. She remembered fondly of how she dedicated his mother to the Chantry and mentioned that she was a beautiful baby and put a fist in her eye. However, she mentioned that she was and remain neutral with the Qunari, which was probably for the best.

* * *

When he returned he found Fenris lurking in the shadows.

Fenris sighed and stood. "I've been thinking about what happened with Hadriana." He hesitated. "I took out my anger on you, undeservedly so. I was… not myself. I'm sorry."

"There is no need to apologise," said Hawke placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You are generous." Fenris paced the entry. "When I was still a slave, Hadriana was a torment. She would ridicule me, deny my meals, hound my sleep. Because of her status, I was powerless to respond and she knew it. The thought of her slipping out of my grasp now…" He looked down at his hands. "I couldn't let her go. I wanted to, but I couldn't."

"That's more important than your promise?" Hawke frowned.

"It's not easy discover your principles are less noble than you believed. This hate…" Fenris gestured. "I thought I'd gotten away from it. But it dogs me no matter where I go. To feel it again, to know it was they who planted it inside me…" He hung his head. "It was too much to bear. But I didn't come here to burden you further." He started to walk away.

"We're friends, Fenris," said Hawke.

"I'm not certain I know what that is."

Hawke watched him as he left and can help how much troubled soul he was.

"Master?" A trembling voice said. He saw Orana standing at the doorway.

He sighed. "It's all right, Orana." He glanced at her. She was wearing the same clothes she'd had on yesterday. "Why don't you get yourself some breakfast, and then accompany me to the market?"

"Yes, Master."

"And don't call me master."

"Yes, Master."

He sighed as she left. It would take her time. He stared at the fire a moment, and then went looking for his clothes. Time was supposedly an excellent healer. And if that's what it took, he was prepared to give Fenris as much as he needed.

Orana was nervous in the market. She was shocked at the very notion of picking something out for herself. Eventually he found it easier to choose out a couple options and then let her pick between those rather than leaving it entirely to her.

When he caught her eyeing a lute, he bought it for her. She carried it back to the estate as if it was a precious child, and within a few minutes of their return, was playing a melody for Leandra. Next thing he knew, his mother was instructing him to find the girl a proper music instructor. He smiled as she fussed about patrons and debuts. She tutted over the clothing selections, and began teaching Orana how to sew things to fit her properly.

* * *

Merrill was playing cards with Isabela. "Why do you always win at cards?" Merrill said, her voice dejected.

Isabela laughed. "Because I cheat, Kitten." She glanced down at her winnings. "This trinket… it's elven, isn't it? From your clan." Isabela sighed. "Don't bet anything you're not prepared to lose. Here… have it back."

Merrill brightened as she tucked the trinket away, then brightened again when Hawke joined them. Isabela gestured to the barkeep. "A jigger of your finest whiskey for my friends over here." She grinned. "The Hanged Man's finest isn't much, but it'll get you just as drunk as anything you'll find in Hightown."

"And you'll wake up and find someone's stolen your trousers." He took the cards away from Isabela before she could finish stacking the deck, and reshuffled.

"That's when you know it's a party. I thought I'd have to watch myself around you, but as it turns out, you're all right?"

He put a hand over his heart and pretended to be insulted. "What do you mean I'm all right?"

"You don't judge people. You're not afraid to get your hands dirty. You know, little things like that. If I had someone like you onboard my ship when the…" She coughed and took a drink. "Storm hit, maybe we wouldn't have been shipwrecked."

He glared at his hand before folding. "Maybe you would have been shipwrecked sooner. I'm a terrible sailor."

"Are you?" She threw in her bet. "I suppose I'll have to keelhaul you till you shape up."

* * *

"A magister within the Free Marches, blood sacrifices?" said Cassandra shaking her head.

"Kirkwall does seem to be a city of troubles," Leliana agreed.

"We knew that before we started to investigate," Cassandra reminded. "Still the Champion took in an elven slave."

"And freed her," Leliana pointed out. "The girl still works here as a servant, remember."

Cassandra sighed. "Let us just see what the dwarf has to say."


	25. Prime Suspect

Hawke entered the Hanged Man and found Varric telling the story to a crowd of people and apparently he was the main character. "… and then Hawke tore the door clean off its hinges, walked into the room and…" He stopped when he saw Hawke. "I guess we'll finish this later."

"Have you got a minute, Varric?" Hawke asked as the crowd of people dispelled.

"Of course, Hawke." They then wandered over towards the table and sat down. "Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you. There's definitely seems to be something happening between you and Daisy these days." Hawke groaned, was there anyone who didn't know his relationship with Merrill. "So, what's going on, Hawke?"

Hawke smiled. "Well, well, well. I never thought you were the type, Varric. I'm flattered."

Varric smiled as he placed a hand over his heart. "Hawk, I know I'm damned near irresistible, but you're just too high-maintenance for me. Sorry."

Hawke frowned. "You wouldn't bring this just for gossip. What on your mind?"

"Shows you know. I would definitely bring this up just a gossip." Hawke raised an eyebrow. "I didn't. But I would." He took a deep breath and his face became all serious. "Listen, as your friend, I feel like I'd be doing a disservice if I didn't say something. Merril is a sweet girl, but there's a whole lot of crazy in that little package."

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "In all the time you've known me, how I ever given you the impression that I would turned off by crazy?"

Varric laughed. "Okay, point taken."

* * *

"Hawke. The new scion of the Amell family… Congratulations." Cullen greeted him when he entered the Gallows. Hawke wondered briefly if the man had figured out yet that he was a mage. But Cullen's smile seemed friendly enough. "I knew an Amell once. He left the tower before Uldred's insanity, then came back to rescue was all." He stared off into the distance for a moment. "Anyway, what can I do for you?"

"Is Emeric around?" Hawke scanned the courtyard.

Cullen nodded. "He was over by the Formari a few minutes ago."

"Thank you." Hawke gave the man a small bow. Couldn't really hurt to be polite to the second in command of all the local templars and decide it was best not implicate himself with the death of Alrik.

"Maker watch over you," Cullen replied before going back to his duties.

* * *

Hawke found Emeric just as the templar entered the courtyard. "Hello, Emeric. Aveline says you need my help again?"

Emeric nodded and gestured for Hawke to follow, and led him to a relatively empty section of courtyard. "I've spent the past few years continuing my investigation into the murders of Ninette, Mharen, and the other women. I believe I finally have a suspect, a man called Gascard DuPuis."

"Is this man and hiding? Am I do find him for you?"

Emeric shook his head. "No, I know where DuPusis is. I just can't get to him. When I became convinced of his guilt, I went to the city guard and demanded that they do something."

Aveline folded her arms defensively. "My men raided that house. There was nothing, and I've heard no end because of it. You were reprimanded, I hope."

Emeric returned her stare, then turned his attention back to Hawke. "Meredith forbade me from continuing my investigation. But she didn't say I couldn't seek outside help."

Hawke sighed, and asked Emeric some questions regarding what he'd found thus far. He nearly had to step between the templar and Aveline at a few points, but managed to get a bit more information than 'he's an Orlesian noble' to indicate guilt. Not that 'Orlesian noble' wasn't a fairly good indicator on its own that this DuPuis was up to something nefarious. Or possibly even dastardly. "What you need me to do?"

Emeric gave him a grateful look. "I knew I can count on you. You'll need to go to Gascard DuPuis's estate after nightfall. Please figure out what DuPuis is hiding. If he's innocent, find evidence to prove me wrong." Emeric folded his arms. "It's just that simple."

Hawke had a feeling that it wasn't going to be as simple as Emeric made it out to be and he was right.

* * *

The moment they stepped into the house they were attacked by demons. It took them a while, but the eventually managed to put the demons down.

"I don't think the guards raiding the estate may that particular reception," said Aveline.

Hawke knew it was her way of saying Emeric was right. They hadn't stepped in the estate for one minute and already got some proof. They found some letters for Gascard with certain mentions of mages, the proof of his guilt was increasing. It increased even more when they found vials of bottles that Merrill told them that were used for blood magic. And strangely enough they found a letter from the knight-commander, apologising for the search much to Varric's bewilderment.

A woman screamed as they entered the room. A woman was kneeling, her expression frantic. "Help me. Please. He's gone mad."

The man with her turned towards them, and his expression of surprise would have been comical under any other circumstances. "You're not…" He glanced at the woman, then back to them. "You're not him." He immediately held up his hands. "Shit. I…" He glanced at the woman again. "I know what this looks like, but I didn't hurt her."

"So the wild-eyed hysteria is just for show, then?" Hawke's eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed the staff. Staff. Demons. DuPuis was a mage.

"You don't understand." DuPuis wrung his hands. "Someone is after her. I had to keep her safe." He shook his head. "I don't know why you're here, but there's a killer out there, and I think he's playing us both. Just…" The man's face was desperate. "Just let me explain."

Surprisingly Hawke wasn't convinced. "All right, we'll see if you can talk yourself out of this."

"Twenty silver if he says, 'it wasn't me. It was the one-armed man," Varric added.

DuPuis nodded. "Several years ago, my sister was murdered. The bastard's now in Kirkwall, killing again. The same way he killed my sister." He paced. "It starts with a bouquet of white lilies. He sends them to each new victim. Alessa was going to be next. I took her so he'd have to come to me. I was finally going to face my sister's killer, but then you showed up…"

"He's lying." Alessa was all but wailing. "He hurt me."

"I've explained this. I need your blood to track you down if he took you. It was for your protection."

"Let go of me." Alessa scrambled to her feet, and DuPuis stepped back to let her pass. She fled past Fenris. Aveline watched her go, then raised an eyebrow at Hawke.

Hawke nodded. Despite his situation, DuPuis had made no attempt to use Alessa as hostage or bargaining chip. "Who killed your sister?" he asked.

"A powerful and experienced blood mage. I believe he uses the women for some ritual. His victims are attractive, healthy women with few social ties."

"Emeric was certain you were the killer."

"Of course he was. But I was trying to find the killer, just like him. Our paths crossed, and he just assumed I was the murderer."

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "He'll want to know what happened here."

"Tell him whatever you like," said DuPuis dismissively. "I'll be long gone by then."

"Can't you just tell the city guard what you told me?" Hawke glanced over his shoulder at Aveline.

"Yes," she said. "Can't you?"

"Why?" DuPuis spread his hands. "I don't want him arrested. This isn't about justice, I need to be the one to bleed him dry."

Aveline stepped up, her fists clenched. "Selfish little shit. How many have you risked by keeping this to yourself?"

Hawke had to agree, if he didn't keep this to himself may be not so many women wouldn't have died. However, he wanted to catch this man he needed all the help he can get. "I can help track down your sister's killer."

"No, I can manage on my own." Fenris stepped out of the way as DuPuis left the room. DuPuis hesitated at the door. "I'm headed to Darktown. If you learn anything new about the killer, find me there. I've a score to settle with him."

* * *

Hawke waited until morning to head back to the Gallows to talk to Emeric. He didn't see the man. After waiting a few minutes, he spoke to the herbalist, and ended up agreeing to find a few more reagents. An hour later, there was still no sign of Emeric.

He then found a Templar by the name of Moira. "Aren't you Hawke? Emeric left not long ago. He said you'd arranged to meet tonight."

Hawke frowned. "Perhaps you're mistaken."

"I'm not mistaken. You send him a message half an hour ago. Look," she then handed him a letter, but it was not his handwriting.

"I didn't send this."

"You didn't? Strange."

"That's not a good sign," said Varric.

Upon hearing this, Moira had immediately chosen to accompany them. She gave him a pointed look when he tried to talk her out of it. It was rather disconcerting just how many templars seemed to know he was a mage. No use worrying about it now. Emeric was likely in trouble.

* * *

He finished the desire demon off with a blast of ice, then ran to check on Emeric. The man's eyes were already glazing over, but he tried the healing spell anyway. He rose, and kicked the wall in frustration.

Moira's eyes were filled with tears as she looked down at the body of her mentor. "Some mage sent that thing here to kill him. Why would anyone…" She shook her head. Hawke placed a hand on her shoulder, and she buried her face in his chest for a few seconds. "Oh, Maker. The murders. Emeric was right. He was getting too close." She looked up at him. "He suspected a man named Gascard DuPuis. Did he do this?"

Hawke couldn't believe he had fallen for such a trick. "Gascard played me, and now he's escaped a Darktown."

"Darktown's a big place, but we'll find him. He is an apostate, and Meredith will want him hunted down. I will speak to the city guard about this Gascard DuPuis will not escape."

"My men will cooperate however they can," said Aveline. "Tell them I commanded it."

"Thank you, Captain," Moira nodded.

* * *

Hawke had received a message from Hubert saying that the caravans had been attacked. After interrogating a miner at his estate, and allowing him to go free, he and a Coterie girl named Lilley went to investigate and discovered that another member of the Coterie, named Brekker, was responsible for the attacks.

Lilley left to investigate more into Brekker, but when he met up with her she was killed and then more members of the Coterie appeared. Fortunately, he was able to convince them that he was not the one responsible for her murder.

He then carried on with his investigation of Brekker and eventually found him in the Undercity. It was revealed that he stole the cargo because he was envious of his wealth and saying that didn't he doesn't deserve it, because he was Fereldens.

Naturally killing the man was easy and Hubert was relieved to hear that their shipments would no longer be attacked.

* * *

Later that night he returned to his estate and found Merrill moving a small amount of the things in. He knew that she had more than this and despite his attempts, she refused to move everything into the estate.

He then pulled out a carved halla that he got from the Dalish craftsman. "I've got something for you."

He then handed the carved halla to Merrill. "Ooh. Did you get this from Master Ilen?" she asked. He nodded and suddenly she began to panic which was quite adorable. "Mythal! Did I miss an important occasion? I'm so sorry! I'll make it up to you, I promise!"

"There's no occasion, Merrill," said Hawke, restraining himself from laughing. "I just thought you'd like it."

"I do like it!" she then turned pink. "I'm sorry I'm making a mess of this…" She looked at the carved halla and back to Hawke. "No one has given me a present before. Useful things. Tools or clothes. Because I needed them. Not… just because." She then kissed Hawke. " _Ma seranna_. I'll find a good place for this."

* * *

"So he reviled himself," said Cassandra.

"And if you had not noticed he handed in the blood mage," Leliana pointed out. "I'm starting to think whether we had it all wrong."

"We're still a long way before the destruction of the Chantry," Cassandra reminded. "For now let the dwarf continue."


	26. Legacy

"I have a report you might find interesting," said the Seeker folded her arms. "It tells of a chasm in the Vinmark Mountains, and a secret that was said to be buried within. Yet when the Chantry went to investigate, they were turned away by the Grey Wardens."

"And why would I find that interesting?" Varric raised an eyebrow.

She glared. "Because the Champion was there." She gestured. "I can't help but notice you've failed to mention this… adventure."

"Oh, that." Varric spread his hands. "I didn't think you'd be interested. Just some business with Hawke's family, a few Carta dwarves who went too far…" He sighed. "You're not going to believe me."

"I'll take my chances."

"All right. Don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

Hawke heard a commotion as he entered through the cellar. He stepped into the house just in time to see a dwarf shove Orana over the railing. The elf girl put out an arm to break her fall, and there was a snapping noise. Another dwarf drew a knife and advanced on Bodhan.

He grabbed his staff and sent a blast of fire. The dwarves immediately turned towards him. He heard one shout, "The Hawke must not be killed."

When the last had fallen, he glanced at his servants. "Everyone all right?"

Bodhan glanced around frantically. "Sandal?" He breathed a sigh of relief when the boy and his mother emerged. Bodhan checked his son, and then nodded to Hawke. "I'll go fetch the guard."

Leandra's face was full of fear. "Son, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, mother," Hawke assured. "I cannot say the same for Orana."

They then went down to check on on Orana.

Merrill and Varric came through the door when he was still setting Orana's arm. Aveline must not have been much further, as she'd arrived by the time he actually began the healing spell.

"Master Hawke?" Orana whispered urgently. "I heard something in the basement."

"I'll check it out. And don't call me master."

"Yes, Master."

Hawke sighed, and gestured for the others to follow. They put their cards down, and headed after him. He saw a shadow move, and started to take aim. Then he blinked. "Carver?"

The young man in Warden armour smiled at him. "I take it you are aware someone is trying to kill you?"

* * *

Once Carver was free of Leandra, who seem to be suffocating him. He began to explain what happened in Ansburg.

"… and since she was interested in me for being a 'Hawke', the Warden-Commander thought there was a reasonable chance you might also be in danger. And there might also be a chance that you'd know something about what they wanted."

"He sent you because this Janeka was asking questions?" Anders asked.

Carver shook his head. "No, he just told her to bugger off. Somehow, Carta found their way into the keep in Ansburg a couple nights later. They tried to capture me. It was pure chance I woke up in time. Naturally the commander wanted me to find out the reason of these attacks."

"Someone wants to capture us?" said Hawke surprised.

"Indeed, normally they just trying kill you," said Aveline.

"From what I've found," Varric said, "this group of carta has been up to something in the Vinmark Mountains."

Carver nodded thoughtfully. "Then that's my next destination." He started to get up.

"I'm coming to," said Hawke.

"I don't need your help," said Carver firmly.

"I case you haven't noted they tried to kill me to," Hawke pointed out.

"No, I can't lose the two of you again," said Leandra firmly.

"Mother they want to capture us, not kill us and besides this won't stop them they'll come back we may not be lucky a second time," said Hawke placing his hands on her shoulders. "Besides, it's just a bunch of dwarven thugs not darkspawn."

Aveline sighed. "I'm afraid my duties prevent me from joining you."

"I'll come," said Merrill.

"I've got nothing better to do," Varric said. Sebastian was unable to come along for he had important matters within the Chantry. Anders and Isabela, however, both volunteered, as did Fenris.

* * *

"There it is," Varric said. They'd been traveling through what appeared to be a wasteland for the better part of two days. If the sun got any hotter, he was going to melt.

Carver narrowed his eyes. "It doesn't look all that dwarven."

Varric shrugged. "These are Carta dwarves, so they're more criminals and smugglers than anything else." He looked around. "They're not usually stupid, though. I don't know why they'd attack you."

"They gave it their best shot." Carver smiled. "I can't believe they snuck into the Wardens keep in Ansburg."

"But they failed, thankfully, and they haven't been able to kill me yet either," said Hawke.

"You have a plan, then? I found their hideout, but my sources couldn't tell me anything else. It's all very…" He sighed. "Strange."

"Why do you say that?" Hawke asked. "It's just the Carta, isn't it?"

"As far as my contacts in the Carta know, they shouldn't be here. There shouldn't even be a here." He hated mysteries. "This place is invisible. A big blind spot on the map. Bianca's never been this suspicious, and she's twitchy to start with."

Carver put a hand to his sword. "Does it matter? We just need to stop them trying to kill us."

"A fine point. So what's the plan?" Varric turned to look at Hawke.

"There must be a reason they attacked us," said Hawke. "Intend to find out."

"Right. Only one way to do that."

"So we just slaughter every dwarf insight?" Carver asked.

"Not every dwarf," said Varric plainly.

"Whatever happens, they won't get the chance to attack again," said Fenris firmly.

They wandered down to the fortress and destroyed merchant caravans. He pointed out how strange it was for the Carta to attack guild members.

* * *

A dwarf met them in a stone passageway. "Both brothers. You're here together. You've come."

"Is…" Carver glanced at Hawke. "He referring to you and me?"

The dwarf turned away and gestured. "Everyone. It's the children of Malcolm Hawke. They've come to us."

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "What does my father have to do with this?"

"It began with him and ends with you. Blood for blood, that's what we were told."

Carver raised a questioning eyebrow. "Did… Father cross the Carta, somehow?"

"You've come to us now, and that's the only thing that matters."

Their father had died three years before the Blight from a sickness. He'd never been entirely satisfied with that answer. "I came here to find out why the Carta has attacked me."

The dwarf gestured urgently. "For the blood! We must have it!"

Hawke blinked. "I hope you don't mean my blood."

"We will take it. Corypheus will walk in the sun once more!" The dwarf drew a pair of long knives and rushed to attack.

* * *

They tended to injuries. "Why would they be after our blood?" Carver asked.

"No idea," said Hawke as he took care of a cut on Merrill while Anders tended to Varric.

"Clearly, these dwarves are insane," Fenris said. "Perhaps even more so than Varric."

"I heard that!"

"I've never heard of a dwarf doing blood magic. Do you suppose this Corypheus taught them? But why would they want you in particular?" Merrill frowned as she looked from Hawke to Carver.

"The Carta doesn't normally act like this. They're businessmen."

"I'd like to know who this Corypheus is." Hawke stood up. "With a name like that, he's bound to go 'mwa-ha-ha' at some point. I just know it." He shook his head. "And really? More blood? Why can't it ever be spit… or a lock of hair?"

"You really want to encounter a spit mage?" Varric gave him a disbelieving look.

"For variety, sure." Hawke winked.

Isabela laughed. "So now you're the target of batty dwarven assassins? You do attract the strangest types."

Hawke waggled his eyebrows at her. "It does seem that way, doesn't it?"

"I wonder what it is. Perhaps you should bathe more frequently."

He spread his hands. "Someday I'll visit a place with no ancient evils, horrors, devouring plagues, or insanity. Maybe a beach."

"I can recommend a few, if you'd like," Isabela said.

"Please do."

Varric smirked. "The day you go to the beach is the day an armada of angry demon pirates show up."

Hawke glared at him. "I've got a bad feeling all of a sudden."

* * *

Isabela eyed Carver with an interesting look. "You certainly… filled out, Carver." She then looked down towards his trousers. "Shame, really, I hear Grey Wardens separates the men from their 'boys'."

"We rarely have children, true," Carver nodded. "But don't worry, that just means I try ever much harder."

Isabela practically licked her lips. "Ooh, I like you all grown up."

Varric shook his head. "Junior took down the Rivaini? Who's telling the story?"

They caught up with Carver a few moments later. He gestured at the view that spread out before them. "A fortress." He shook his head. "Here, in the middle of nowhere?"

Anders walked forward a few more paces, then knelt next to a corpse. "Legion of the Dead armour. It's a dwarven tradition. Anyone accused of a crime can clear their name if they die fighting darkspawn. Surprisingly, they bump into Grey Wardens a lot." He stood. "I had a friend

* * *

More dwarves. More insane rambling. And not just from his companions. Some of the dwarves were babbling about drinking from the master and other such creepy nonsense. "The Hawke's blood. The Master will rise. He will be free." Another of the crazy dwarves walked towards them.

"Gerav?" Varric stepped forward.

"Varric?" Gerav shook his head. "N-no one told me you would be part of this. We were just going after the Hawke."

"Why has the Carta been attacking me?" Hawke asked.

"I c-can't say. The Master must be free…"

"Really, Gerav?" Varric shook his head in disapproval. "I thought better of you than this. I mean, gutting the occasional competitor for fun and profit, that's the game. But what are you all even doing here? Worshipping demons?"

"We drink the darkspawn blood. He calls us…"

Hawke saw Carver react to the dwarf's words. He narrowed his own eyes. "Why would you do that? Won't you just die?" Hawke asked.

"It's the only way… to hear the music."

"Oh, come on, you nug-licker. Snap out of it. There's no gold in hallucinating."

"An acquaintance of yours, Varric?" Hawke asked turned towards his companion.

"Hawke, this is Gerav. He's a greedy, brilliant, bastard son-of-a-nug from the Carta. Gerav, this is Hawke, the one whose blood you want to drink or bathe in or whatever." Varric shrugged. "But if you're after eternal youth, I've got to tell you, he's no virgin."

"The Master is calling. He needs the blood."

"Gerav… buddy… This isn't like you." Varric drew Bianca. "Look. I've still got Bianca, never misfired a day in her life. You don't want her to see her papa like this, do you?"

Hawke glanced down at his friend. "Varric? You want to spare this bastard?" He couldn't ask Varric to kill a friend. Even if the friend was insane.

"Not if he's after you, Hawke." Varric cocked Bianca. "Bianca, I think it's time to say goodbye."

They were suddenly attacked by more dwarves and they got their weapons ready. Once the slowly stopped Varric remove the bolt he fired in Gerav's throat.

"You poor stupid bastard…" he said shaking his head. He looked up at Hawke. "I used to do business with the Carta, back in the day. Gerav was a nutcase then, too, but in a good way. He was trying to design a new type of repeating crossbow. Bianca was the only one that ever worked."

He stood up and shook his head as he walked away. "I can't believe he ended up like that."

* * *

Further in, they found a heavily armoured dwarf unloading a bronto. "Hawke. They told me you were going to be trouble." He smiled. "And look, you brought the whole family. How generous." He stepped away from the bronto. "I swore to Corypheus we'd bring him Malcolm Hawke's blood. One way or the other…"

"What does this have to do with my father?" Hawke demanded.

"The Master wants you. I don't ask why." The dwarf removed a strange looking staff from the bronto and set it on a table.

"So, it's Corypheus who's after me?" What kind of name was Corypheus anyway? It almost sounded Tevinter.

"What Corypheus wants, Corypheus gets. From us, or from someone."

Hawke sighed, and shook his head. He can believe people with this crazy, especially since he killed about a hundred of their men. "Corypheus wants some blood? Sure. Let me just open a vein… How about a kidney, too?"

"Corypheus, we have done as you command." The dwarf threw his head back and raised his hands. "Your sacrifice is here. You will see the surface once more!"

Fenris stepped in front of Hawke as the dwarf charged. The dwarf more or less ended up impaling himself on Fenris's blade. Hawke, Merrill and Anders both threw up barriers as more dwarves attacked. Varric fired a bolt straight at the bronto and seconds later it toppled over.

* * *

Varric checked over the corpse of the armoured dwarf. He started to turn to ask Hawke something, and saw his friend pick up the strange staff.

The staff shimmered. "What the—" Hawke started to say. Then he screamed as the staff started to glow. Merrill and Anders immediately tried to rush to him, Carver only a step behind. All three were thrown back by a barrier that seemed to spring from the staff itself. Both Hawke and the staff were glowing.

The light vanished, and Hawke would have collapsed had not Fenris managed to catch him. "Maker's breath…" Varric said.

Anders' hands glowed with healing magic, and then the man frowned. "He seems to be all right." He narrowed his eyes. "Hawke?"

"I'm fine," Hawke replied. "That was…" He examined the staff. "Father used this."

"The enchantment needed to do that…" Carver shook his head. "What did Father know?"

Hawke held up the staff. "This will take us to Corypheus."

* * *

They began chasing down the remaining thugs, but then a barrier sprang into place behind them as they descended the stairs. "Those sons of bitches…" He shook his head. "The whole blasted thing's sealed over."

"I'm sure there's another way out," said Hawke.

* * *

"…be bound here for eternity, hunger stilled, rage smothered, desire dampened, pride crushed. In the name of the Maker, so let it be. I can do nothing about the Wardens' use of demons in this horrid place. But I will have no one say any magic of mine ever released one into the world…"

Carver took his hand off his sword hilt, and shook his head. "Who was that? I feel like I know that voice."

Hawke was staring at the binding that held the demon trapped. "It sounded like Father, but… how?" His father would never have been mixed up in anything that involved demons. He glanced at Merrill, who was examining the bindings. "Merrill?"

"I think if you activate that thing there, you'll be able to bring this down and kill the demon," Merrill said.

"Would that bring the barrier down?" Isabela asked.

"I don't know," Merrill said.

"Worth a try," Hawke said.

When the demon died, they heard the voice come again. "I can do nothing about the Wardens' use of demons in this horrid place. But I will have no one say any magic of mine ever released one into the world."

"Do you hope to learn something about your father down here?" Isabela asked.

"Of course, I barely remember him."

"Well, I think your father sounds like someone worth knowing." Isabela smiled. "According my mother, my father wasn't. Not even for one night."

* * *

The man who approached them moved oddly, as though he'd been severely injured. His hair was falling out in clumps, and his skin was mottled grey. Both Carver and Anders winced as he approached. "The key. Did they find it? The dwarves? I heard them… looking… digging… How do you bring the key here?"

Hawke held up the odd staff. "You mean this? How is this a key?"

The thing shambled towards them. "Magic, old magic, it is. Magic from the blood. It made the seals. It can destroy them."

"I came in here to find Corypheus." Hawke narrowed his eyes. "Do you know where…" Maybe there was a better question. "Or what…" And please don't say demon. "He is?"

"Do not say his name" The thing cringed. "He will hear you. Do not wake him. Now when you hold the key."

Hawke groaned. "Let me guess, you want to drink my blood too?"

"Blood. The blood of the Hawke. Are you the Hawke?" It looked at him, glazed, dead eyes narrowing. "Yes. I smell magic on you. But you hold the key. The key to his death…" It nodded. "Yes, I can show you out, yes."

"Who are you?" Hawke shook his head. "What's wrong with you?"

"You ask me that? I am the one who belongs here, not you. You are no darkspawn."

Behind him, Carver spoke up. "That armour, it's Warden issue. No one has that."

"You hear it, no?" The thing looked at his brother, and then at Anders. "Hear it calling? I smell it in you. I know the way out. Follow me. Down and in. Down and in."

Hawke was relieved to find that someone here wasn't killing him for once. "Perfect. What do I need to do?"

"The seals hold us in. Anything comes in, nothing ever leaves. Not without the key. You must use it, yes. On the seals. Every seal, you touch the key to it. Only then they open. Only for the Hawke. Not back. Not up. Only way out is down and through the heart. Down…" It started to shamble off. "Down in the depths…"

Hawke looked back at Carver. Carver sighed. "Careful. Things down here, they can get complicated."

* * *

The voice came again when the next demon died. "I may have left the Circle, but I took a vow. My magic will serve that which is best in me, not that which is most base."

"That which is best in me." Carver looked up at Hawke. "Father used to say that, didn't he? To you and Bethany? She never felt like she could live up to him."

"I know he would be proud of her," said Hawke closing his eyes.

Merrill put a comforting hand on Hawke's arm. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Isabela was doing the same gesture and he can help but smile.

He healed the wound Fenris had taken. Fenris smiled at him. "Thank you for asking me to come along again, Hawke."

Hawke frowned at him. "Is there a reason I wouldn't?"

Fenris didn't answer, but he looked at Merrill and Anders with suspicion.

* * *

"Let me guess." Hawke stared at what appeared to be some kind of giant monster frozen inside a green barrier. "The first seal?"

"Two thousand years, the magic holds. Never broken. Give it the key. Let it take the magic back to itself. Absorb it, all who came before…"

Hawke walked up, the strange staff in his hands. "This…This is a bad idea, isn't it?"

Naturally, the moment they unlocked the seal they were attacked by a creature.

* * *

He touched the staff to one of the pillars, and let it draw in the magic.

The strange Warden nodded with approval. "The blood works. It is good."

"Thank you for helping me, but… who are you? Do you have a name?" Hawke asked.

"Name…" It paced back and forth. "So long since I've said my name. La… Larius. I was Larius. There… was a title, too. Commander… Commander of the Grey."

"He was a Warden," said Anders. "Poor wretch must come down here on his Calling…"

"Yes. The Calling…" Larius nodded. "The songs get louder. Only death stops them. I am dead. But I never died."

He turned to his brother and feared that he would become like that one day.

He then turned to Anders slightly confused. "Anders? What are you talking about?"

"Wardens aren't immune to the taint forever," said Anders grimly. "In time, we start to hear voices. The same ones darkspawn hear.

"Not exactly a hero's end, is it?" said Carver just as grim.

"If you're a Warden, then do you know…" He turned a slow circle. "What just happened? What does the seal have to do with my blood?"

"The magic, it calls to the blood, reads the thoughts of those who hold it. The last to hold it, the Hawke. I…" Larius looked away. "I was there when he laid the seals. Before I became this. You favour him. C-Corypheus calls. In the darkness. What waits there?" He shuffled away again.

Carver came to stand next to him. "I felt something after that seal. We have a thing, the Joining. It was in the blood, like that."

Fenris shook his head. "It seems your blood is special, Hawke. Why am I not surprised?"

"The sooner we find our way out of here, the better," said Varric.

* * *

Merrill looked at Hawke slightly confused. "Why do you suppose the Carta what a big hole in the ground?"

"I don't think they want to be here," said Hawke slightly amused.

"Do you think they fell down here got stuck?" Merrill blinked. "Maybe a good rope ladder would solve this whole Carta problem."

Carver laughed. "If only it was that simple."

Hawke shook his head at Merrill's frowning face, it was quite adorable.

* * *

"I've bought our freedom, Leandra. We can go home now, us and the baby. We'll be together. I hope it takes after you, love. I would wish this magic on no one. May they never learn what I've done here."

Carver just added his brother bewildered. "Father didn't want a child with magic? He got that one wrong twice over. He sure didn't show any regret back home. The attention he gave you and Bethany… Well, I guess he figured the worst that could happen to me was tripping on my sword."

Hawke placed a hand on his shoulder. "He knew you didn't need protecting. You were the strongest of us."

"Sure, it's easy to believe that now. But I think…" He paused slightly. "I just wanted to help." He then gave his brother a sympathetic look. "I did worry sometimes, for you two. Bethany just wanted to be 'normal'. As if I made a good case for it."

Hawke closed his eyes. "She knew what we could be. Glad to see you're starting to see it too."

"We'll see, I suppose," Carver shrugged. "As far as we get, they're still gone. I'm tired of losing things. I miss her and Father. Mother's food. You sometimes. Gamlen can go suck an egg. Come on. This mess down here, it's not following us out."

* * *

"When I left the Wardens, I swore I'd never spend another minute in the Deep Roads." Anders glared at their surroundings.

"'Left' sounds like it was a mutual arrangement." Fenris said.

"Fine. I ran away. What's it to you?"

"Ran away from the Circle, ran away from the Wardens…" Fenris shrugged. "It sounds like a habit."

"Running away from your family, straight to Danarius. Running away from Danarius, straight to Hawke. Maybe we're more alike than you think."

"I've always said so," Varric said, netting a glare from both men.

They kept on walking then suddenly Anders stumbled and grabbed his head. Hawke immediately looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not listening…" Anders shook his head. "I'm not listening."

"The abomination's hearing voice," Fenris said. "How unexpected."

Hawke had a feeling that it was something more and placed his hands on Anders' shoulders. "Anders?" He shook the man gently. "Anders?"

After a moment, Anders nodded at him. "I'm all right. I think I'm all right."

* * *

"He is waking. Larius shambled towards them again. "The magic grows lax. He feels us walk where no step goes."

"Are you talking about Corypheus?" Hawke frowned. Still no actual information on who or what Corypheus was.

"He calls. Like an Old God. He mimics their cry." Larius gestured. "He calls them to free him. The dark children and the light, any with taint in their blood."

Maybe bringing Anders along hadn't been a great idea after all. "If Corypheus isn't an Old God, what is he? Human, demon, darkspawn?"

"More than darkspawn. More than human." Larius shook his head. "He thinks. He talks. He pieces the Veil."

Carver blinked. "You're talking about an awakened darkspawn. The Wardens have only encountered them once."

Hawke stared at his brother as Larius continued to talk. "He wants what was once his."

"How could this Corypheus be sending people after me if he's asleep?" Hawke asked.

"He can call, dream, but not know. When the seals are gone, he will wake. And he must die."

"Why are you down here? How have you survived?" Hawke folded his arms. They needed answers.

"The Calling. The music. It is our death."

"The corruption…" Carver's voice sounded reluctant. "Once it gets that bad, the darkspawn can't sense you anymore. The last advantage."

"Yes," Larius said. "I lived, but I died. The corruption feeds me. So many years in darkness…"

"When you run off, where do you go?"

"I know the darkness before the seals. Here, the voice is too strong." Larius shambled off again. "I cannot stay."

* * *

They hadn't gone far when Anders staggered again. "Stop. Just make him stop talking. Make him stop."

Carver's eyes widened. "It's Corypheus. He can hear Corypheus."

"Hang in there, Blondie. We're going to get you out of this."

Hawke tried shaking him again. When that failed, he sighed. Then he punched him. As soon as Anders gave him an upset look, he used a healing spell. "Sorry. You weren't coming out of it."

"It's all right," Anders said. "That…" He turned towards Carver. "What about you?"

"I don't hear anything," Carver said. He frowned. "But you're a mage, and you've been a Warden a bit longer than I have."

Hawke frowned. "You will tell us if you do start hearing things?" He narrowed his eyes when Carver nodded, and then glanced at Merrill. "Merrill, if you think he's hearing things, zap him."

She nodded. "I can do that."

"Isabela, stick to Anders like glue. He hears voices again, punch him."

Isabela gave him a salute.

Anders sighed. "How's this going to fit into your grand tale, Varric? 'Hawke and friends walked for a really long time in nasty tunnels that smelled like nug shit.'"

"Well, I'd probably say something like… 'Then around the corner, we caught the sight of an entirely new type of darkspawn.' You had to ask, Blondie."

Anders sighed. "I've already done the 'and around the corner we caught sight of an entirely new type of darkspawn' thing. You'll have to come up with something else."

They soon came across an ancient altar that looked Tevinter in origin, maybe dedicating to one of their Old Gods.

* * *

Hawke examined the altar. Fenris gave him a concerned look. "Don't even think about making a sacrifice here, Hawke. Whatever happens, I promise it won't be good."

"I can't believe I'm saying this but…" Anders took a deep breath. "Fenris is right."

"I have no intention of even touching the thing," Hawke said. "I'm more concerned with…" He shook his head. 2Feel it? There is power in the thing. But… if Dumat is dead, how could there be?" He straightened, and then left the thing behind.

They found the body of what seemed to be one of Varric's ancestors, and delivered the last rites. Varric seemed oddly touched by the sentiment.

* * *

Anders stumbled again. Isabela started to draw back her hand, and he shoved her away. "Aaaah."

"What's wrong?" Hawke said, turning around.

"Wardens… the Joining… I have too much taint in my blood. I can't shut him out." Anders bent over, holding his head. "Help me…" He started to glow. Always a bad sign. "I will not…" Justice's voice took over. "Be controlled."

"Let it go," said Hawke calmly. "There's a better way to fight him."

The abomination twirled the staff, and started to call up a spell. Hawke started to call up a barrier, and Carver stepped forward. Energy surged from his brother, and Gabriel saw the spell die in Anders' hands. His brother… a templar? He'd worry about that later. He stepped forward, and punched Anders in the mouth. It took three hits before Anders hit the ground and stopped glowing.

"Thank you," Anders managed to say, despite the fact blood was streaming from his nose. Hawke offered him a hand up. "I-I guess they're right. You never can leave the Wardens." He sighed. "I hope I can hold against him. Against them both."

"Let's just try not doing that again. Bianca hates being turned on her friends."

* * *

"He feels the seals weaken." Larius shambled out of the shadows again. "He knows you are close. You must be ready…" Suddenly he turned, and started looking around. A moment later, Carver did the same thing. "What's that? Who? No… no. They're here."

"Who is 'they'? The Carta?" Hawke asked.

Larius shook his head. "No. Worse. More treacherous, more dangerous. The Wardens. They listen to Corypheus. They want to bring him to the light. Stop them. You must stop them." He shuffled away again.

Voices floated down the tunnel. "Something's happening. The prison's breaking down. But it's stood up to tunnelling before. What can—" The woman leading the other Wardens stopped short. "You. You have the key. And you've come through the seals. But how?" She narrowed her eyes when she saw Carver. "Wait, you're Hawke! Stroud told me you met in the Deep Roads. Are you the same one? The child of Malcolm? The Carta said they were close. I am Janeka. I lead this unit of Grey Wardens."

Carver narrowed his eyes. "Senior Warden, why are you interested in my father?"

"Then you don't know? Without Malcolm, this prison would have fallen over twenty years ago."

Hawke frowned. "Tell me what my father did."

"The Grey Wardens built this prison to contain one of the most powerful darkspawn we've ever encountered." She gestured. "But even the best magic fades. The Wardens need to reinforce the seals. This requires the blood of a mage untainted by… Warden training. The last to perform the ritual was your father."

"My father was a blood mage?" She was lying. She had to be lying.

"To avert the Blights, forbidden magics are sometimes necessary."

"For us, maybe." Carver glared. "My Father knew better."

She shrugged. "He did not bind the demons, if that is your concern. That was done in another era, before the Chantry's laws."

Hawke started to realise why his and Carver blood was needed. "That's why the Carta came after me."

"We need your help, Hawke. I've been working with Constable Mahariel on h research on this darkspawn and I believe the original Wardens were wrong." She gestured arrogantly. "He isn't a threat to humanity—he's our greatest opportunity. A darkspawn who can talk, feel, reason…"

"Corypheus cares nothing for Blights." Larius's voice rang out. "He used you."

One of the wardens with her gaped. "The Warden-Commander."

Janeka narrowed her eyes. "Don't listen to this… creature. He's half darkspawn himself. I know how to harness Corypheus, use his magic to end the Blights."

"No," Larius said. "The Wardens knew. Corypheus is too powerful."

Carver nodded. "There are rules to the order, and with good reason. Father wouldn't want this."

Varric shrugged. "Worth the risk. If he doesn't help, it's one more big darkspawn to stick a bolt in. No big deal."

Fenris just shook his head. "A darkspawn and a mage. Just what the world needs."

"Corypheus calls her, and she listens." Larius gestured. "She brought him the Carta, sent them for you."

Janeka stepped forward. "Stroud wouldn't let me have your brother and Constable Mahariel wouldn't allow me either. I need you."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Carver's stance become hostile, and there was a tiny flash of glowing blue in Anders' eyes. Also the concern that the Hero of Ferelden was involved didn't exactly help her case either. "How could you trust any deal this darkspawn makes with you?"

"Do not think me foolish, Hawke. I am making no deal. I have a spell which can control Corypheus, bind him to my will. He will be a new, important weapon in the war on the Blights. No more, no less."

She'd gone a few steps beyond merely foolish. Downright stupid sounded more accurate. Binding darkspawn? "Are you talking about using blood magic?"

"Everything that was done to him was through the power of blood. The Wardens imprisoned Corypheus before the Chantry banned such magic. It is the only way to hold him."

"A convenient excuse," Fenris said.

Hawke agreed. "Corypheus may be as great a threat as the next Blight. We can't risk freeing him."

"We'll find a way to do this with or without you, Hawke. This prison will be broken. The Blights will end. Come." She gestured to her companions, and they left.

Larius gestured to him. "With me. We will beat them to the seal."

* * *

They decided to activate some of the prisons old mechanisms in order to slow Janeka down. Unfortunately, they were slowed down by the Carta, who set off the wards, blocking their path. According to Larius, they had to reconnect some kind of beam to get past the barrier.

Fenris leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Merrill went up to him quite cheerfully. "Cheer up, Fenris! This isn't so bad!"

Fenris looked at her as if she was insane. "We're in a black pit full of evil. How can you imagine this "isn't so bad?"

Merrill shrugged. "It's not going to rain. And there's almost no chance of being attacked by bears!"

Fenris shook his head in disbelief. "And we put our lives in your hands. Astonishing."

"Oh, I know." Merrill giggled. "It surprises me, too."

"She's got a point," said Varric.

Fortunately, Hawke was able to figure out the mechanism before another argument was brought up. They did meet up with Jankea, who after mocking Larius attacked them. It took them a while to work their way around the traps and deepstalkers. They had to talk Merrill out of having one of for pet and carried on.

* * *

They soon made it to the top of the summit and there they found Janeka and her Wardens blocking their path. "You're too late, Larius. Hand over Hawke, and I'll give you a quick death."

Larius shook his head. "Hawke has made his choice—the right one."

"The right choice, or the only choice?" She folded her arms and her face became smug. "Malcolm Hawke was not allowed to disagree."

"It is the past. It doesn't matter." Larius tried to wave her away.

Hawke turned to him. "Larius? What does Janeka mean by 'not allowed?'"

"How does she know this?" Larius glared at one of the other wardens. "Alec, did you tell her?" He shrugged. "Malcolm Hawke was reluctant, had to be… persuaded. I was Warden-Commander. It was my duty." Larius took a few steps away. "I delivered an ultimatum—help us, or you'll never see her again."

Carver put a hand to his sword. "You did what?"

"You were going to kill our mother?"

"No, never," Larius held up his hands. "He came with us. I never had to decide her fate. She was never told about what passed between Malcolm at me."

"That doesn't excuse it," Carver said.

"You see, Hawke?" Janeka was all but sneering. "How can you trust anything Larius says?"

He was right he couldn't trust Larius, but the Hero of Ferelden himself sanctioned this mission. If there was anyone he could trust it would be him. "Larius's threats were reprehensible, but he is still right about Corypheus."

"You can come willingly or not, Hawke. I just need your blood."

At once a massive battle took place and it ended up with Hawke and the others looking down at the bodies of Janeka and her Wardens.

* * *

"He stirs," Larius said. "Slay him now, before he wakes. Before his strength comes." Larius shambled past the dead Wardens. "The key. It's not strong enough. Use your blood. Free him and slay him."

Hawke didn't like this, but it may be the only way for them to escape this prison. He sighed, and drew his dagger.

Once all four of the pillars were deactivated, he walked to the dais in the centre, and used his blood again. The key floated in the air, glowing with a soft orange light. Then the light exploded, throwing both him and the key clear. Fenris and Carver helped him back to his feet as something began to emerge.

It was… well, he'd seen darkspawn before. This one appeared to be an emissary. One equal in height to an ogre. It floated in the air. "Be this some dream I wake from? Am I in dwarven lands? Why seem their roads so empty?" It's voice reverberated throughout the chamber. It turned it's strange gaze to them. "You. Serve you at the temple of Dumat? Bring me hence. I must speak with the first acolyte."

Anders' eyes widened. "Dumat… was the first Old God to become an Archdemon. There haven't been temples to him since ancient Tevinter."

The creature stared at him. "You look human. Do you belong to the Empire? Slaves then, to the dwarvers? Why come you here?" He glared. "Whoever you be, you owe fealty to any magister of Tevinter. On your knees. All of you."

Hawke frowned. "The Free Marches haven't been part of the Imperium for six hundred years."

It narrowed its eyes at him. "You are what held me. I smell the blood in you." It turned away, and raised its hands. "Dumat. Lord. Tell me. What waking dream is this? The light. We sought the golden light. You offered… the power of the gods themselves. But it was… black… corrupt. Darkness… ever since. How long?"

"The Golden City." Larius shook his head. "The first violation. The magisters who brought the Blight."

"That's ridiculous!" said Anders firmly. "There were no magical bogeymen who trespassed in the Maker's city. It's a story."

"You don't think a magister would be arrogant enough to challenge the Maker?" said Fenris. "You need to meet more magisters."

Anders waved his hand dismissively. "It's Chantry propaganda."

Hawke wasn't really convinced. "Where do you think darkspawn come from?"

"Some creation of the Old Gods, no doubt."

Corypheus was looking up at the sky. "Dumat? Have you forsaken me? I am your faithful servant…"

"The darkspawn aren't just some conveniently explicit lesson on the dangers of magic," said Anders firmly.

Hawke couldn't really dismiss the talk darkspawn that was shouting 'Dumat' all over the place. "Unless Corypheus is for real, everyone who knows what happened is long dead."

"You don't think it's a convenient? What does every sane man and woman in Thedas fear? The Blights. Why not pin those on mages too?"

"What matter of speech is this?" Corypheus demanded looking furious at them. "How long have I slumbered?"

"He tainted the world," Larius said. "He speaks to all who carry the corruption. Darkspawn. Wardens. He brought Janeka here. Brought you…"

"If he's been calling the Wardens to free him, what's his plan?" Hawke frowned staring up at Corypheus. "He seems confused."

"He slept. While the seals held, he could not wake. He knows nothing of time that passed. We must kill now. Before he comes to."

Hawke couldn't believe this, he was in a warden prison and face-to-face with an ancient Tevinter magister. "You really think he's one of the original magisters? That he's been to the Black City?"

"The city!" Corypheus roared. "It was opposed to be golden! It was opposed to be ours!" Corypheus began to gather his magic. "If I cannot leave with you, I will leave through you. I seek the light."

* * *

They got singed despite Anders' barrier. Hawke sent a few spells at Corypheus, but none of them seemed to do anything. The pillars were glowing again. Well, nothing else seemed to be working. He started deactivating them again. Each time, shades appeared. Isabela brained one with Anders's staff. Deactivating the last pillar seemed to bring down Corypheus' defences.

Not long enough. "I made your sacrifices, Lord. Strengthen me now!" Rocks fell from the sky and Hawke was too busy dodging to wonder where they came from. They dodged the fire Corypheus was sending everywhere much more difficult. Merrill created the strongest barrier she had ever created and protected him from another gout of flame. He started deactivating the next pillar as Merrill stood behind him, shooting bolts of lightning at the shades. Carver had yanked Isabela into another alcove, and was waiting for the fire to pass them. Anders was holding a barrier to protect Fenris, much to his annoyance. He couldn't see Varric or Larius.

Shades came down, on to the next one. Varric was there, still firing Bianca at Corypheus. Hawke dropped the last of the pillars, rendering Corypheus vulnerable for a few more precious seconds. Isabela took a hit, and Anders dragged her to safety as he began to work his healing magic.

Corypheus drew power from another pillar, and ice began to fall. And the rocks were now electrified. And there was still fire everywhere. He growled. Varric pulled Merrill out of the path of some falling ice. With Carver and Fenris at his back, Hawke started deactivating the pillars again. Corypheus kept yelling taunts.

The defences dropped again. Corypheus tried in one last desperate attempt to defeat them, it began channelling its magic, but Hawke by shooting a bolt of electricity. The force caused it to topple to its knees. Hawke then channel as much power as he could and ice shot out from Corypheus' body which then crumpled to the ground.

Exhausted both he and Anders approached Corypheus' body and upon close examination Hawke found an ancient Tevinter amulet around his neck.

Anders examined it. "That amulet… no one's used that pattern since before the First Blight. It was unique to a small sect in Tevinter who worshipped the god Dumat." He then looked down at the ancient magister's body. "Corypheus really was an ancient magister. I always thought the Black City was just a story…"

This was a living proof that the Chantry had been telling the truth over a thousand years, but it still didn't given the right to punish all mages. "Even if it's true, it doesn't justify punishing mages over thousand years later."

"Do you think?" Anders asked. "What else might the Chantry know that we don't? I-I'll need to study this further."

* * *

They met Larius outside and he looked a bit different, though Hawke couldn't say with what.

"You did well, Hawke. More than the Grey Wardens of old were able to accomplish." Larius' voice was steady now, and he stood up straighter. Walking, not shambling. "I will tell the Warden-Commander of your service here."

"I'd be careful," Carver said. "We don't usually come back from the Calling."

"I must try." Larius managed a small bow. "You've gained an ally today."

Hawke frowned at him. "Why are you talking like that?"

"My head is clear now. Without Corypheus' call, I can think again. I thank you for my freedom."

"The Wardens won't thank me for the death of their own," Hawke pointed out.

"Janeka ignored Constable Mahariel's express orders when she sought to free Corypheus. They'll be relieved she's gone." Hawke felt that was a little dark, but said nothing. "The prison stands no more. My gratitude you have, for my freedom."

* * *

Varric looked up at the Seeker defensively. "I said you wouldn't believe me."

She paced. "When the Seekers arrived at the structure, this prison… it was destroyed." She shook her head. "The Grey Wardens were there, but they did not mention this Larius. They claimed everyone was dead." She glared. "And now you claim the Champion was not only there, but defeated a magister… one of the magisters of old."

"Left there by the Wardens themselves."

She put her hands on her hips. "A curious tale. I wonder if there's more to it."

"A small matter." Varric's voice was heavy. "The one lasting treasure to emerge from this—a moment together for the family. In happier times."

* * *

"The attacks, darkspawn, every bloody part of it, all because of what happened years ago." Carver paced in front of the fireplace. "What he did for Mother. For all of us, really. Blood magic on top of leaving the Amell name. No wonder he kept it secret. Still, to do all that…"

"You never liked that he spent so much time with Bethany and I, but it wasn't all bad." Hawke put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"He started training me too, best he could. Then I picked up some things from those soldiers who came through." He smiled fondly. "Remember when I beat him? Took the blade clean away."

"He was holding back," Hawke said.

"On magic? Sure," said Carver nodding. "But not the blade. After that… well, he knew I could handle the house while he was off with you two." He sighed. "I suppose I see why he was so concerned."

"They wouldn't want us wallowing over what we've lost," said Hawke closing his eyes.

Carver nodded. "I don't think either of them got what they wanted out of this life." Carver then looked into his eyes. "I think…" He smiled. "I think it'll be all right, you know. Not real soon, mind you."

Hawke laughed. "I suppose it will. Not real soon."

"Take care, Brother."

They hugged before parting.

Leandra then approached him smiling. "You're not so different. Not beneath. I see much of Malcolm in you both. Apparently even in my dotage I know him better now than I did at the time. He kept so many secrets. I may have been willingly blind."

"How did you even meet? A Ferelden apostate and Kirkwall elite?" Hawke asked. It had been something that he had always puzzled him.

Leandra crossed her arms as if she was remembering that happy moment. "Mages were sometimes called to perform at the Viscount's functions. Malcolm was not what I pictured." She smiled. "So earnest, like he really cared about everything he said." She then smiled at him. "Very like you. But it was long ago. We have a new life, and we must think of tomorrow. Malcolm gave us that."

"It's hard to think of how much we've lost."

"Sometimes. But look at what you've done for us. Malcolm gave us the chance, but you're the one who brought us where we are. We all know that, even if sometimes linger in moment that is better forgotten. I've done enough of that. We are blessed and should live our lives as such. As much as we choose to."

Hawke smiled at her and then headed off to his room, he needed a good night rest after what he had been through. He was even sure if anyone would believe it, he was sure that Varric was telling the story in the Hanged Man right at this very minute.


	27. Offered and Lost

Hawke went to the Hanged Man and met up with Varric, who offered him a drink.

"You have got to hear this, Hawke," said Varric. "There's this tale making the rounds… They're saying you single-handedly fought off a pirate invasion at midnight, on the sacred ground of the Chantry."

Hawke shook his head. "Don't the stories mention my stunning good looks?" Varric shook his head. "What about my cunning wit?"

"No, they skip straight to the part about the lovable dwarf with the gorgeous crossbow and the heart of gold. I try to steer them straight, but you know how stories go. Just… don't be surprised if people seem in awe."

Hawke shook his head. "What compels you to spin these ridiculous tales?"

Varric shrugged. "I love the sound of my own voice. And I'm a compulsive liar." Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, I don't know. It's just something I do. There's power in stories, though. That's all history is! The best tales. The ones that last. Might as well be mine."

Hawke shrugged. "I guess awe works. A little reverence wouldn't hurt, though."

"You may not be my best-dressed or cleanest friend, Master Hawke, but you're all right in my books." He then got up. "Anyway, I'll quit exaggerating before it goes to your head."

* * *

Hawke went up to the keep to inform the Viscount of the situation with the Qunari, Merrill went with him quite happily and they met Sebastian along the way. Aveline was waiting for them within the Keep and marched up towards the Viscount's office.

The Viscount, who looked extremely tired. "Years of nice, quiet riot he… gone. Along with a whole street."

"The Qunari were blameless," said Hawke, though he knew that would make things better.

"Right. A mad elf, pushed by zealots, likely hidden in the very groups I have to appease," he grumbled as he sat down at his desk. "The Maker has a grand sense of humour. And the Arishok—I suspected he had no plans to leave, I didn't know it was annoying for him."

"Keep the worst of them off his back and it will be all right," Hawke assured.

Viscount rubbed his forehead. "But that's the problem. It has already escalated, despite your efforts. A shame."

"What happened?" Hawke asked.

"A Qunari delegate and entourage paid me a visit. It was civil, tentative. Hopeful." He straightened. "They left my chambers with precision, but were not reported by the outer guard. They are missing almost literally from my doorstep." He shook his head. "What, do you imagine, will be the Arishok's reaction?"

Hawke nodded. "We need to get in front of this, and fast."

"I feel I have tried to turn a stampede for some time, now. Someone is pushing very hard." The Viscount sighed. "Speak to Seneschal Bran. He has details that show how damning this is."

Hawke nodded.

* * *

Seneschal Bran was just outside the Viscount's office. "You have information about the missing Qunari?"

"I am to help you, yes," Bran nodded. "Viscount Dumar would appreciate discretion in this matter. I would prefer that you were not involved at all, but that is neither here nor there."

"I'm having a hard time picturing the abduction of a Qunari entourage," said Hawke.

Bran looks slightly uncomfortable. "Unfortunately, they were not at their best. Their swords were tied into their sheaths. As I advised." Hawke raised an eyebrow. "It seemed a respectful compromise. Even I know you cannot separate a Qunari from his weapon."

"I'm sure you have suspicions about what happened," said Hawke.

"My concerns are well founded," Bran nodded and looked to Aveline. "This cannot have escaped the notice of the city guard. Unless they were involved."

"Have any failed to report?" Aveline asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Several. You should start with one of them." Bran paced. "Although, where you find a swordsman so eager to sell his honour and duty, I'm sure I don't know."

"The Hanged Man."

"Hanged Man."

"Even I know that."

Bran gave them an irritated look. "Right so you know what to look for. I can't imagine this has occurred without notice. There is always a weak link."

* * *

"What do you want, Hawke? I have no interest in adding to my distractions." The Arishok had his usual glare.

"And yet you sent a delegate to the viscount."

"A brief attempt to educate. If the dwarf had stolen the _saar-qamek_ , it could have been used to show the price of greed." The Arishok shifted slightly. "But you know the outcome of that. These fools are determined to be wrong. I won't waste the effort again."

"A courtesy Arishok. The delicate and his guards are missing."

The Arishok stood, but gestured at his men to hold. "Anyone else, and those words would have been their last. You are handling this? Not your buffoon of a viscount?"

"I am." He found himself a bit resentful of the Arishok characterising Viscount Dumar as a buffoon.

"Then I will wait. But know this: the provocations we have suffered have worked. If this is not resolved, I can fulfill my duty to the Qun with far less annoyance by sifting through rubble."

"As if there wasn't enough pressure," Aveline muttered as they left the compound.

* * *

He recognised one of the guard buying drinks for the place. "You're doing well for yourself," Sebastian said, walking up behind the man. Hawke walked up on the other side, while Aveline moved to stand behind.

"That's right, pal. Tonight I'm paid and blessed. And all I had to do was turn my head." He held up a bottle. "To all my friends." He glanced around at their positions. "Hey, step back. I know important people. We're going to show this city what to do with heathen oxmen."

Well, that was a nice little admission of guilt. Now he just needed to know details. "Guard-Captain, would you like to have a word with your man?"

The guard blanched as he turned around. "Guard-Captain?"

"Who?" Aveline just looked at him.

"What?" The guard nearly wet himself as he looked around. Nobody came to his aid.

"Who?" Aveline grabbed him by the front of the tunic and shoved him against the table.

"Who what? I don't…"

"Who bought you. Who bought the honor of a proud guard of Kirkwall and made him a drunken mabari bitch."

"I don't… I don't know." The man gasped. "He was a templar. I swear. He… he had the seal of the grand cleric and everything." He wilted before her eyes. "It's true."

She stepped back. "The penalty for abandoning your post is ten days on the wall. I expect you to report in the morning." The man actually whimpered as he fled. She turned to Hawke. "There's your answer. A templar."

"With the grand cleric's seal, no less. Well done." This only added to their problems.

* * *

Sebastian seemed pretty sure Elthina wasn't involved. He was probably right, but she needed to know someone was misusing her seal. He had just requested an audience when a familiar face stepped out to block his path. "Serah Hawke."

He really should have seen this coming. "Sister Petrice."

"Mother Petrice. Time has changed us both." She gave him a distasteful look. "Grand Cleric Elthina cannot grant an audience to just anyone. What do you want?"

"Funny how you and issues with the Qunari seem to go together."

"And you always assume their side." She paced a few steps back and forth. "I was naive when last we met. I did not want you dead, but I felt a death was necessary. That may be too fine a point for you to understand, but you must admit, you came out the better for it."

All he wanted was to stop a senseless war, something that Petrice found hard to grasp. "A templar may have misjudged an order and abused the grand cleric's seal."

"I assure you, the templars would never embarrass the Chantry, at risk of the knight-commanders wraith."

He narrowed his eyes. "Men were hired for the righteous task of kidnapping a Qunari delegate." Petrice just gave him a silent glare. "A pause that says you knew. But does Her Grace?"

"The grand cleric trusts her stewards to enact the wishes of the Maker."

Merrill was a much better liar and she was a blood mage. "I'll speak to Her Grace another time. You will not always be here."

"Stubborn…" She at Hawke, but he wasn't going to be intimidated. "All right, Serah Hawke, if you won't abandon this. Let me offer you something. The templar you seek is a radical who has grown… unreliable. Confronting him may do us all a favour."

"And he is what to you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"He is my former bodyguard, Ser Varnell. Assume what you wish, but I offer him to you as… reconciliation." Trap. "Meet me at this location." Trap. "I invite you, Serah Hawke." Trap. "Come see the unrest these Qunari have inspired." Come walk into my trap.

He sighed. And he was going to have to, if he wanted any chance at getting the Qunari back alive. He glanced over his shoulder at his companions, and received three nods. "Let's go." Hopefully, she was as good at setting traps as she was at prevaricating.

* * *

They found Varnell giving a speech to an assembled. None of those assembled looked as if they could last thirty seconds with a guardsman let alone a Qunari warrior. He found the Qunari easy enough they were bound to the wall and not in good shape.

"Like any beast, remove the fangs and it is lost. They are weak before the faithful of the Maker. The only certainty in their precious Qun is death before the righteous."

"Ser Varnell," Petrice's voice rang out.

"Take a knee, faithful. The Chantry blesses us."

"You claim a blessing when you have used the authority of the grand cleric so openly? You have brought wrath down upon you." Petrice gestured at Hawke. "You remember Serah Hawke?" She was actually smirking now. "The Qunari have friends, templar. How will you answer their allegations?"

Hawke glared at her, last thing he wanted to do was fight, but clearly he had no choice. "You want a fight? Face someone whose weapons are not bound."

Varnell then raised a dagger to the throat of a Qunari and slid his throat and the other fanatics followed suit.

"Righteous! Destroy them!" Varnell lifted his blade as he sounded the attack. Petrice ran for it.

It was only Varnell who put up a decent fight, but even he did not last long against Aveline's blade. The other fanatic fell like flies.

"All right. Time to bring this mess to the Viscount's attention," said Hawke.

* * *

Sebastian volunteered to fetch the Viscount, and brought him back quickly. Viscount Dumar paced, staring at the carnage. "Madness. Madness."

"Yes, Excellency," Hawke agreed.

There was no waiver him to actually save the Qunari, he knew that, but he hoped that killing those responsible would appease the Arishok.

Viscount Dumar stood over Varnell's body. "Chantry involvement… even if they are fringe elements. It could not be worse."

"Her Grace had no knowledge of this affair," Sebastian assured him. "I trust she will deal with it swiftly."

"You killed them." Viscount Dumar turned to Hawke with a hopeful look. "All of them?"

He was genuinely sorry to disappoint the man. "A mother serving the grand cleric allowed this to happen."

"Are you quite sure? She held a blade with them? Told them to fight you?"

"No. I cannot say that" Her prevarications had served her that far. But he had cause enough to watch her.

"Of course not." Viscount Dumar shook his head. "A blasted mother…" It was clear the man believed him. "You have no idea the storm these allegations would cause. It would destroy what support I do have."

"I have had trouble with her before," Hawke admitted. "She is… slippery."

"I understand. I will make my inquiries. Gently. And you should be careful in your associations. For now, we have other problems." He turned to the dead Qunari. "We have the delegate but… I can't return the bodies to the Qunari in this state." He looked back at Hawke. "Serah Hawke, you know the Arishok. What should I do?"

From what Saemus had said what seemed a lifetime ago, the bodies themselves mattered little. Still, if nothing else, the Arishok had proved repeatedly to value honesty. The lie might be worse than the crime. "Hiding this would only make it worse."

"It would, wouldn't it? I am losing my sense of how to balance this nightmare. I appreciate your help in this matter. As bad as this is, it could have been much worse without you. Kirkwall owes you. I owe you."

Hawke accepted the handshake. "I'll inform the Arishok. At least we know he won't kill me for delivering bad news."

* * *

"So, you could not rescue my delegate, but you killed those responsible. How do you explain the condition of their bodies?"

"A fanatic used them to incite others of his kind." Hawke handed the swords to one of the other Qunari. As far as he knew it was a show of respect.

"I accept that."

"I expected worse."

"I have seen every vice and weakness of your kind—and how few of you take responsibility. Your viscount remains a fool, but you are not. _Panahedan_ , Hawke. I will keep one good thought about your kind."

At least he wasn't threatening to burn down the city, but he knew that the Arishok patients was growing thin.

* * *

He returned to the Chantry in order to confront Petrice, who did not look pleased to see him.

"Serah Hawke, it's good to see you," she said. "The shame that Varnell brought his order is most unfortunate." Hawke glared at her, she was a terrible liar. "Praise the Maker that you were His Champion in that dark place."

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "You knew exactly what was going to happen in there."

Petrice narrowed her eyes. "Hawke, you are standing between the righteous and the heretical. You're not going to make friends."

Hawke glared at her. "I'd settle for being able to trust the people I already know."

"I gave you what you wanted at considerable cost. Varnell is more manageable as a martyr, but his loss will be felt. You have avenged heretical Qunari with human blood. Surely that is good enough for you?"

Hawke was resisting the urge to kill her. "You're no more satisfied than I am."

Petrice narrowed her eyes. "Varnell was a fool, but the fact remains: an offence against the Maker goes unchallenged." She then walked off not even looking at him in the eye. "I will give you no further cause the shame the Chantry today, but we will have this argument again. The viscount's incompetence all but guarantees it."

They watched as she left them and Hawke turned to Sebastian.

"I trust you can keep an eye on her and inform the Grand Cleric," he said.

"Of course," Sebastian nodded. "That woman is deluding herself as she think she's doing the work of the Maker. I'll let you know if I hear anything."

* * *

"So, Petrice orchestrated a group of fanatics to attack the Qunari," said Cassandra.

"It is clear that the Champion just wanted to prevent a pointless war with the Qunari," said Leliana. "As the tail progresses it appears that the Champion is more a peacekeeper than a power hungry mage that wishes the destruction of all."

"There are still many things that don't add up and I am determined to find out the truth," said Cassandra.


	28. All That Remains

He returned a grimore to its owner, and was absently handed a bag of coin by someone who clearly didn't recognise him. That was nice. It was good to know not everyone in Kirkwall knew all his business. He glanced inside the coinpurse, and found it full of silver. With a shrug, he headed into Darktown to find his urchin.

As usual, she was just outside Anders clinic. Her father had clearly taken it upon himself to act as a guard for the place, and she'd decided that made her the lookout. Both greeted him with a nod, and he handed her the coinpurse to distribute. Usual rules. Those with children to feed first, then she and her father could use their judgment with whatever was left over.

Inside the clinic, Anders was setting a bowl down. "What are you doing?" Hawke asked.

"Putting out milk." Anders' tone made it clear he thought it had been obvious. "I miss having a cat around." He sighed. "But I think the refugees have scared them all off. Or maybe eaten them." He gestured for Hawke to follow him further into the clinic. "You know, I've been meaning to thank you. Having someone like you making a name for yourself in Kirkwall, it's done a lot for mages. You're the kind of leader we need. To tell the world we won't be punished any longer for our Maker-given gifts."

It was good to see the man feeling better. Then again, helping in the clinic did tend to make him feel better as well. "Mages cannot be treated guilty just by association."

"I can't tell you how reassuring that is. Mages in this city look up to you." Anders gestured. "They want what you have. Just knowing you exist is enough to light the fire."

Hawke frowned. "I didn't realise you were planning anything that big."

"No small change would address the injustice that mages face. The Chantry itself must be overturned. There will always be mages born in Thedas. But templars are made by men…" Anders shrugged. "And they can be unmade."

There were good men and women among the templars. Wesley. Emeric. Thrask. Moira. Even Cullen, for that matter. If only they were the normal ones, instead of folks like Karras and Alrik. "Why does this matter so much to you?"

"Why do you think your parents gave up everything to keep you and your sister out of the Circle? In the Circle, they tell you day and night that magic is sin. A mark on your soul of the Maker's hatred. But for all the talk of demons, the most common death I saw for a mage was suicide."

He'd been eight before they'd settled down in Lothering. He could still remember those early days, never staying in one place longer than a few months. Even after they'd found a home, he'd still had to hide. Always be slightly wary of the neighbors. Feeling useless when there was a problem he could have solved by magic and secrets had kept his hands tied. Now, most of the guard knew what he was. He was helping, doing good. Keeping people safe. It should be like that for everyone. "Together, we'll win this fight."

"Your faith inspires me. Sometimes, I fear I cannot do this. Not while I struggle against this vengeance inside me. But I know you won't let me lose myself to him." The look Anders gave him almost made him uncomfortable.

He shrugged. "Why do none of my friends ever just want to be the best wallop player in Lowtown?"

Anders laughed. That was good to see. His friend didn't do that quite often enough. "Would the great Hawke deign to associate with the best wallop player in Lowtown? Seriously, though, I couldn't do this without your support. I couldn't…" He sighed. "Hold onto this spirit of vengeance inside me. But I know you won't let me lose myself to him."

* * *

They approached the area quietly. A guard caught an arrow in the throat. Hawkemoved in quickly, and managed, just barely, to keep the man from bleeding out. Aveline nodded at the young woman who appeared to be in charge. "Lieutenant Harley?"

"Aveline?" Harley breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank the Maker."

"I take it you know each other," Hawke said, dragging the wounded guard to a more sheltered position.

"Harley is one of the guard, recently promoted."

Harley nodded. "This disaster is my first 'routine' assignment." She raised an eyebrow at Hawke.

"We're not reinforcements if that's what you're waiting for," said Hawke.

"Bollocks. We're up against Evets Marauders."

"You're certain about that?" Aveline's voice became concerned.

"Fell Orden's up there." She gestured. "And Viktor Longdeath's handiwork you've already seen. We tried two sorties up the path, but it's trapped to oblivion. Now I'd be thankful just to get out of here alive."

"No fair, guard dog." One of the bandits started yelling taunts. "You've brought friends."

"Shut your mouth," Harley yelled back. The bandit only laughed. Aveline really was neglecting the 'witty repartee' part of guard training. He'd chat with Brennan about it later.

"Fell Orden? Viktor Longdeath?" Might as well find out what exactly he was in for here. "What are you talking about?"

"They've been robbing and raping for Maker knows how long. Did a broad daylight assault on the Keep to rescue one of their number two years back." Harley shook her head. "Fell Orden, a blood mage, is here. Viktor Longdeath. Sophie."

"Maker." Aveline shook her head. "You certainly drew a fine first detail."

Hawke looked around at his comrades. Merrill, Fenris and Isabela both nodded. "The longer we wait, the more of us they'll kill. Let's attack now."

"I'm with you. But my men may be too rattled to join us." Harley looked around at the wounded men.

Hawke then turn to the men. "Evets Marauders. They're just men. Flesh and bone. Flesh can be torn. Bone can be broken. Alone, they will pick you off one-by-one." He then stood up with his staff on hand. "Together, we are unstoppable. On me!"

It works the guardsmen began to stand and drew their weapons.

"You'd make a fine captain of the guard," Harley smiled. Aveline gave a nod in agreement. "Look out for traps. Be careful, Evets Marauders are deadly."

He threw up a barrier as the guards started to move, then summoned a tempest into the bandit's positions. The bandits fled the lightning into their own traps and the waiting swords of the guardsmen. Then he narrowed his eyes, and focused on taking down the blood mage. It was over in minutes.

"That should be the last of them." He wondered idly if they should have bothered to take any of them alive, then shrugged.

Harley was just staring. Slowly, a smile spread across her face. "They're all dead? I…" She clapped one of the other guards on the shoulder. "I can't believe it. I'll tell Lieutenant Jalen at the Keep what you've done. I'll make sure he rewards you."

"Good work yourself, Lieutenant." Aveline gave her a proud nod. "Make sure the others know it."

"Men, we're heading home."

Aveline smiled as she watched her guards leave. "Thank you all."

"It was a pleasure," Hawke smiled.

She nodded at him. "And it's appreciated. All I'm saying. Let's head back in. I could use a drink."

They hadn't gone far when Aveline glanced at Isabela. "You're right."

Isabela gave her a confused look. "About?"

"About knowing who you are." Aveline spread her hands. "I'm the captain of the guard. I'm loyal, strong, and I don't look too bad naked."

"Exactly." Isabela nodded. "And if I called you a mannish, awkward, ball-crushing do-gooder, you'd say…?"

"Shut up, whore."

"That's my girl."

* * *

After getting his reward from Lieutenant Jalen he went and presented a shield to Aveline that had the engraving of Sir Aveline from Orlais. At first she was a bit resentful, because she only had a good shield from her late husband, but eventually she warmed to it.

Afterwards Hawke went to meet Fenris in his mansion and found him holding a glass of wine.

"Last bottle of the Agreggio." Fenris handed it to him when he entered. "I've been saving it for a special occasion."

Hawke took a drink. It really was an excellent wine. He should see about getting some, assuming Anders ever quit using his wine cellar as a hiding place. "And what's that?" He passed the bottle back.

"The anniversary of my escape. _Astia valla femundis_. Care to hear the story?"

Hawke was slightly surprised, but he wouldn't lie that he would like hearing the story. "I'd like that."

Fenris smiled, and offered the bottle again. "Let's see. You've heard of Seheron? The Imperium and the Qunari have fought over the island for centuries, now. I was there with Danarius during a Qunari attack. I managed to get him to a ship—but there was no room for a slave. I was left behind. I barely got out of the city alive."

"I thought Danarius considers you valuable?" He drank, and handed the bottle back.

Fenris laughed as he took a drink, and set the bottle on the table before settling back in his chair. "He wasn't given a choice. The look on his face as the ship pulled out was priceless. There are rebels in the Seheron jungles called Fog Warriors. They found me and took me in, nursed me back to health. I stayed with them for a time. Until Danarius finally came for me."

"Were you with the Fog Warriors willingly?" Hawke asked curiously.

"I'd grown fond of the rebels," he admitted. "They bowed to no master and fought for their freedom. It was… beyond my experience." He took the bottle, and looked down at it contemplatively. "When Danarius came, they refused to let him take me." He took a drink. "He ordered me to kill them. So I did. I killed them all."

Hawke looked down at the floor, and wished he knew what to say. "Why would you do such a thing?"

Fenris looked at his feet. "It felt inevitable. My master had returned and this, this fantasy life was over. But once it was done, I looked down at their bodies. I felt…" He took another drink. "I couldn't…" He sighed. "I ran. And never looked back."

After a moment, Hawke reached out and took the bottle from Fenris. He took a drink, and then set it back on the table. "Couldn't you have found other Fog Warriors? Become a rebel?"

"Even if I did, I felt… unworthy." Fenris leaned forward. "I had no way of knowing if I could truly escape from Danarius then. I didn't even know what that meant. I simply had to get away. I stowed aboard a ship to the mainland and moved south… chased by my former master every step of the way."

They sat for a few minutes in companionable silence. Finally, Hawke spoke again. "I have to wonder why you stayed with Danarius as long as you did."

"You have not been a slave. A slave does not dream of freedom, or wonder at possibilities. You think only of your master's desires, and what the next hour will bring." Fenris shrugged. "It did not occur to me that I could be anything else until I had a taste of it."

"But there are stories of slaves rebelling all the time. They did in Kirkwall." And the last group they'd rescued, the folks captured by the slavers had been quick to grab up weapons and fight back. He wondered how young Fenris had been when he'd been taken. Had he been born a slave?

"The ritual that gave me my markings also stripped me of my memory." Fenris examined the tattoos. "Whatever I was before may as well have never been. Perhaps if I knew, I might have felt differently."

Hawke gave him a sympathetic look. "This can't be easy to talk about."

Fenris watched him quietly for a moment. "I have never spoken about what happened, to anyone. I've never wanted to." He smiled. "Perhaps this is what it means to have a friend."

"Perhaps you're right," shrugged."

Fenris smiled and raised the bottle. "To you, Hawke. A finer mage I have never met."

* * *

When he returned home Hawke found, Gamlen was waiting for him at the house. The man appeared to be losing an argument to Sandal.

"Enchantment!" Sandal said happily.

"No, Leandra. Lee. Ann. Drah."

"What's wrong uncle?" Hawke asked.

"There you are," Gamlen said, turning to face him. "Where's your mother? Is she feeling all right?"

"I'm sure she's all right," Hawke assured, but he frowned at his uncle. "Why you so upset?"

"Your mother didn't show up for our weekly visit. Is she ill? She is here, isn't she?"

"No, Gamlen." Bodhan came out of the kitchen. "We haven't seen her all day."

"Where could she be?" Gamlen shook his head.

"With her suitor, perhaps?"

"Suitor?" Gamlen looked almost affronted. "Leandra never mentioned a suitor."

"Well, those lilies arrived for her this morning." Bodhan gestured at where some white flowers were sitting on a side table.

Hawke felt a chill go down his spine. "White lilies. I know something about that."

"Don't just leave me waiting." Gamlen glared. "What is it?"

He closed his eyes, he thought he had seen an end to this, but clearly he had been wrong. "There's a killer in Kirkwall who sends his victims white lilies before he takes them. He's murdered several women already." He turned, and gestured to Merrill. Merrill immediately left to get the others.

"No." Gamlen was shaking his head. "You're wrong. Leandra is fine."

"Aveline will get the city guard to keep an eye out. Don't worry, Uncle." Hawke picked his staff back up.

"All… all right. That girl know what to do," said Gamlen relaxing a bit. "Maybe… maybe Leandra took another path to my house. I could've just missed her. I'm going back to Lowtown." He fled.

"You should help Gamlen look for your mother," Bodhan said, his face betraying his fear. "The boy and I will stay here in case she returns."

Hawke nodded, and followed Gamlen out of the house.

* * *

"Varric!"

Varric jumped at the sound of Merrill's shout. "Maker's breath, Daisy. You just about gave me a heart attack." He blinked. "What's wrong?"

"Leandra's missing. White lilies."

"Shit." Varric strode down the hall and knocked on Isabela's door. "Rivaini, we've got trouble." He glanced at Merrill. "You let Aveline know?"

"And Anders. They are already with Hawke."

Varric nodded. As soon as Isabela opened the door, he told her to get Sebastian and Fenris, and then followed Merrill out of the Inn.

* * *

Hawke went directly to the templars and informed them of his mother's kidnapping. There were quite stunned at first, but agreed to help the search for his mother.

It was night when he met up with the others and they found Gamlen talking to a boy.

"I told you already. I saw her!"

"Did you see where she went?" Gamlen asked desperately.

"What do I get for telling you?"

Gamlen looked at Hawke and pulled a few coins out of his pouch. "Here's a few silvers. Buy yourself some food." He then noticed the boy's poor footwear. "And new shoes."

The boy looked at the silvers in awe. "That's real silver, that is. I'm your man, through and through. I'll tell you everything I know!"

He then pocketed the silver in his pocket. "That lady was here. She looked like she was going to the bridge to Hightown. But then a man came up to her. He stumbled and fell over, right at her feet, like he was dead. His hands were all bloody, like he'd been in a fight. The lady shook him, and I think he said, 'Help'. She got to his feet, and he was wobbly—it was funny. Anyway, they left, and… that's all I saw."

This didn't bode well. "What did the man look like?" Hawke asked.

"He was a man. He had hair and… a nose. And nice clothes, but they were all stained from the blood."

Gamlen sighed.

"It's not too late," said Hawke looking to Gamlen. "She could still be alive."

Gamlen shook his head in confusion. "Why would anyone take? It doesn't make sense!"

"The man left some blood… where he fell over," said the boy gesturing to the spots of blood on the ground. "You could follow it."

Gamlen looked a Hawke. "Why don't you do what the boy says? I'm going to go home in case Leandra shows up."

He then left and the boy soon followed.

Aveline and approached Hawke shaking her head in total bewilderment. "Never thought I say this, but Gamlen's right. My men can look for Leandra while we checked the blood. Any leads help."

* * *

They indeed follow the trail of blood and found themselves in an abandoned foundry. Funny enough this place was all too familiar.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" Varric asked.

"This is where you found the human remains all those years ago," said Aveline. "We shouldn've known there was something else here."

"Mother must be here somewhere. We need to look around." Hawke followed the trail.

* * *

Varric had barely managed to get Bianca off his shoulder before Hawke had blasted apart the first group of demons. He noticed that in the fight with the next batch, Merrill never got more than about ten feet from Hawke.

They found Alessa's body just inside the secret passage. She hadn't been dead long. Hawke immediately started moving again, and the rest of them hurried to catch up. The place smelled foul, like lime and rot. He saw Hawke bend and pick something up. "I know this locket. It belongs to Mother."

Part of the underground passage had been turned into something resembling living quarters. More demons appeared, and corpses began to rise as they entered. Varric and the others took care of the group that appeared on the right. The tempest Hawke summoned was more than sufficient to take care of the group on the left.

"Does he… live here?" Hawke bent, and looked at some papers on the ground.

Aveline stared at the books in horror. "Books on necromancy. The Templars will want to confiscate those."

Hawke narrowed his eyes before rising and walking towards a shrine positioned against the wall. "What… is this?"

"That woman in the portrait looks like Leandra, doesn't she?" Aveline's voice was disturbed.

"Creepy," said Varric giving gave Hawke a worried look.

Hawke turned away and continued deeper into the tunnels. "I need to find her. Now."

* * *

The robed man was standing in front of another figure, one seated in a chair. He looked up as they entered. "I was wondering when you'd show up. Leandra was so sure you'd come for her."

"Where is she?" Hawke demanded. Varric cocked Bianca, and saw the others preparing for a fight.

The robed man stepped towards them. "You will never understand my purpose. Your mother was chosen because she was special, and now she is part of something… greater."

"Spare me the demented rambling." Hawke shifted his grip on his staff. "Where is she?"

The man raised his hands. "I have done the impossible. I have touched the face of the Maker and lived. Do you know what the strongest force in the universe is?" He turned back towards the seated figure. "It's love. I pieced her together from memory. I found her eyes, her skin, her delicate fingers…" He touched the figure. "And at last, her face… oh, this beautiful face." He helped the figure to its feet. "I've searched far and wide to find you again, beloved, and no force on this earth will part us."

After rising, the figure faced them. It moved towards them, it's motions jerky. Above a red line on the neck that Varric didn't want to think about… was Leandra's face. "Mother," Hawke said, his voice shocked.

Demons started to come to the robed man's summons. Hawke lifted his staff, and the world around them seemed to explode in flames. Varric and the others focused on the rising corpses and shades coming in behind them. Merrill kept firing spells at anything that got in Hawke's way, and they left Hawke to deal with the man.

* * *

Once all was done Leandra moved jerkily towards Hawke, but then began to topple over.

"Mother!" Hawke yelled and caught.

He rested her head on his knees and looked into a pale face with tears running down his cheek.

"His magic was the only thing keeping her alive," said Merrill, who also had tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Leandra looked at her son and smiled. "I knew you would come."

"You know me," Hawke smiled, doing his best to keep a brave face. "I always save the day."

"Shh. Don't fret, darling," she said in a wispy voice. "That man would have kept me trapped in here… But now… I'm free." She then traced one of her hands against his cheek in a loving fashion. "I get to see Bethany again… and your father. But you'll be here alone."

Hawke couldn't hold back the tears as he held his mother's hand. "I should have watched over you more closely, I should have…"

Leandra smiled proudly at her son. "My little boy has become so strong." Hawke looked into her eyes. "I love you. You're always make me so proud."

Then she went limp and her hand fell to the ground as she took a final breath. Hawke could not fight the tears back any more.

Varric watched as the strongest man he knew broke. Hawke's screams fill the entire room and when Merrill went to comfort him, Aveline placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her head.

* * *

Hawke just sat in his chair looking at the fire still contemplating on what happened.

"Did you find her?" Gamlen asked as he came down the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Uncle. She's gone."

"You were right about the flowers and everything. I…" Gamlen punched the wall. "I can't believe she's gone."

"I was too late."

"So you're to blame." Gamlen gestured wildly. "If you'd been quicker or stronger, you could've…" He lowered his hands. "She could be…" A sob escaped him. "Why her? Why Leandra?"

Hawke stood up. "Mother's gone. Will knowing why ease the pain?"

"No. It won't." Gamlen folded his arms. "It will always seem senseless, won't it?" He hit the back of his head against a bookcase. "Where's the one who did this to her? Did you find the person who killed Leandra?"

"He's dead."

Gamlen nodded. "It won't bring Leandra back, but I'll take comfort in knowing that." He sighed heavily. "Carver needs to be told." He looked towards Hawke. "I'll send a message to the Grey Wardens and hope it reaches him." He hesitated a moment. "Take care, my boy."

* * *

Hawke then went to his room and sat on the bed, he still can't believe what has happened. That his mother was dead. He failed his family, Bethany, Carver and now his mother. He promised his father that he would protect them and what a good job he had done so far.

" _Ir abelas, ma vhenan_ ," said a voice.

Hawke turned and found Merrill walking into the room, she had tears down her face and was giving Hawke a sympathetic look. He couldn't understand her words, but he had a very good idea what they said.

"I'm glad you're here, Merrill," he said.

"Leandra is in a better place now," said Merrill sitting down next to him.

"She's with the Maker," Hawke nodded.

"Or with Falon'din. You never know."

* * *

"So, the Champion's mother was killed by a madman who couldn't accept that his wife had gone to the Maker," said Cassandra.

"I feel sorry for the man," said Leliana. "Imagine how we felt, he lost a sister to the Blight, his brother to the taunt and lost his mother to a madman. He swore to protect them and no matter what he did he failed."

"Maybe it was this loss that drove him to do what he did," said Cassandra.

"Cassandra?"

"Yes?"

Leliana shook her head. "The other parts to the story. Anders running the clinic, distributing food. The Champion risking his life for a boy he barely knew…" She sighed. "We may have more wrong than we thought. These were good men."

"We know who blew up the Chantry, Leliana. Cullen was there."

"I know. I just… were they acting, or reacting?" She sighed. "When we got here, I wanted to know what. Now, I think, I want to know why."

Cassandra sighed, and then nodded. "As do I."


	29. Following the Qun

The funeral was lovely, but Hawke found himself unable to speak when he watched his mother's body burning. He felt Merrill rubbing her arm around him for comfort and he did appreciate it. All his friends and those people who had known his mother when she lived in Kirkwall gave both him and Gamlen their sympathies.

They were turned back to his estate for food and drink, but Hawke didn't feel like in the mood and was sat in his study. He then saw Aveline entering with a bottle of wine in her hand.

"Hawke," she said giving him a sympathetic look. "I don't care what else is going on. We haven't spoken about Leandra. How are you?"

"I have a smile on my face," said Hawke putting a brave face on. "That should be enough for most people."

"That doesn't work on me. I knew her, too. I want to think my mother was like," said Aveline as she sat down next to him. "I just have flashes of… impossible long hair. But my father…" She paused and looked at him, "would you like to hear one thing?"

Hawke looked up. "You've never talked about him."

"My father trained me in all the skills he had been forced to give up. He spent everything to get me into Cailan's services." She closed her eyes and looked at him. "Do you know what I remember? When he read to me—stupid things, dragons and heroes—he wouldn't turn a page until I reached over and took his hand. That big man made every step of the story my choice. I love that.

"He died of the wasting in a Denerim ward… those last weeks, I read to him. I had to take his hand to turn the pages. And I couldn't tell if he was too weak, or if it was the same old game. He smiled at that, at his big girl." She laughed. "I don't know why I'm telling you this." She then looked at the wine bottle she bought in. "Drink?"

"A glass for those we've lost," said Hawke.

Aveline smiled. "All right then. Benoit du Lac. And Leandra Hawke." She then poured them to glasses. "Don't let anyone tell you when to move on. Take their hand and say 'my choice'. That's all I have. I'll miss too."

The children then took a drink and Hawke felt himself cheered up, he knew his mother wouldn't want him to wallow in self-pity and he was determined to keep the city safe in her honour.

* * *

The next day Hawke gave Varric his father's signet ring, which Bartand pawned in order to pay for the expedition and gave Isabela a bottled ship. He then heard from his miners that there were massive problems within his mine which involved, giant spiders. Undead. Arcane horrors. Rusty pickaxes.

Afterwards he went to the Chantry and saw Sebastian and Elthina arguing with one another.

"I'm given it all up! I made a vow to the Chantry, and it was wrong to turn my back," said Sebastian.

Elthina shook her head. "Sebastian, listen to yourself. You're as impulsive now as the day you turned away from us. Do you think the Maker wants another rashly-spoken vow that you'll abandon when the next passion takes you?"

"I will not—"

"This is your life, child. Don't spend it being blown about like a weathervane." She then noticed Hawke approaching them. "And here's Hawke. Come to goad you into further heroics, no doubt."

Hawke watched as Elthina walked off and wondered what he did to get such a cold reception. "The grand cleric upset with you?"

"She thinks I'm fickle," Sebastian explained. "But I mean it! I know you don't agree, but I can't continue to break my oath. And for what? Why would I rule Starkhaven and deal with jackals like Lady Harimann for the rest of my life?"

"Do you see yourself as a prince or a priest?"

Sebastian shrugged. "That's exactly the question I've been praying for guidance about. When I think of going to Starkhaven… calling on allies like Flora Harimann and all the corrupt, scheming nobles…" He sighed. "My throat swells shut in horror. When I think about saying, I'm at peace."

"You should ask yourself what's best for your people, not just for you," Hawke advised.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "I do not have hubris enough to imagine it matters to the common people who rules them. Someone will take the reins. The fields will be planted, the crops gathered. No one will notice that a Vael lives and isn't there. And I can devote my life to the Maker's will on Thedas."

Hawke shook his head. "I can't believe you'd turn your back on Starkhaven now. After all we've done."

"I've been praying for guidance and had nothing. I cannot return to Starkhaven—and subject my people to war—without a clear sign that it's the Maker's will."

Hawke didn't know why, but he had a feeling that Sebastian would soon regret saying those words.

* * *

He spent the afternoon helping in the clinic. Once the work started, the slight awkwardness between him and Anders vanished, and things seemed to settle back to normal or at least what passed for normal in Krikwall.

After the clinic was emptied, he glanced over at Anders. "I brought you something. It's shiny and subversive. I thought you'd like it." Hawke tossed the parcel at Anders.

Anders caught it, and smiled. "You got me a gift? I hardly think I've done anything to deserve that. Is it a…" He looked down at the contents. "That's a Tevinter Chantry amulet. Do you want me to get executed? It's sacrilege to wear those in any land under the Divine."

"The Divine condemned their Chantry because they freed mages from the Circle," said Hawke. "I thought you might sympathise."

"I like it. Maybe not on the outside of my clothes—I'm not that eager to face the hangman's noose—but I appreciate the thought." He turned it around in his hands contemplatively. "I never really thought about what life would be like in the Tevinter Chantry. In the Circle, they make it sound like the Void itself. The Black Divine, stalking Thedas, making it unsafe for kittens and virgins."

"I haven't noticed too many of either in Kirkwall."

Anders laughed. "And fewer every day, I suspect. I appreciate the gift. Perhaps one day I can return one as meaningful."

* * *

Merrill was sitting with her head in her hands. It was a few moments before she realized he was in the room. "Oh. Hawke. Come in. I…" She sighed. "Was just…" She turned to face him. "Am I crazy?"

He probably wasn't the best person to ask that question. "Yes, but in a good way."

"I thought the _arulin'holm_ would fix everything. The mirror would work, and everything would be right again…" She sighed. "But I keep dreaming of Pol's face. Everyone that I care for thinks I'm a monster."

He sat next to her, and draped an arm over her shoulders. "It's hard to imagine someone more lovable than you."

She snuggled into him for a moment. "That's so untrue. I can think of someone…" She then looked up at him. "I… you've been so good to me. Someday, I'll make this up to you, _lethallin_."

* * *

Somehow Isabela managed to convince him to hold a Wintersend party in his estate. He had a feeling that it was mostly just to cheer him up, but he could hardly dismiss it.

Orana took the bottle of wine Fenris offered, and went back to fussing over the table. She'd really outdone herself on the meal. Isabela was deftly moving through the room, attempting to keep Aveline between her and Gamlen.

"I think dinner is ready, master."

"I'll get everyone to the table. And don't call me master."

"Yes master."

Merrill sat next to Aveline, chatting away amiably. "You must have really liked the Hawke family."

"Why do you say that?"

"You came all the way from Lothering with them, didn't you? And they're not even your clan."

"Humans don't have clans, Merrill."

"Exactly! You came so far together, and you didn't even have a Keeper to make you get along."

"So your Keeper tells you to stop kicking each other, or she'll turn the aravel around?"

"Sometimes she also warns us to stop pulling hair," Merrill said.

Bodhan served a second course, and they all fell too happily, sharing the occasional story. Hawke smiled. It was good to see everyone enjoying themselves. It would have seemed that Isabela's plan to cheer up had worked successfully

"Does the city guard never ask where you wander off to with Hawke?" Fenris asked Aveline.

"I am on a 'special investigation'."

"And what does that make me?" Hawke asked.

"Someone who is helping me with my investigation."

Fenris chuckled. "How benevolent of you, Hawke."

"Well, we do investigate," Hawke pointed out.

After the meal, Orana got out her lute and played for them. Isabela dragged Anders into a dance, and a heartbeat later, Donnic did the same to Aveline. Hawke bowed, and offered Merrill his arm to enter the dance. It was most in joyous and carefree that Hawke felt the pain of losing his mother subsiding.

As the evening began to wind down, Donnic cleared his throat nervously. Then, much to the delight of everyone present, he went down on one knee and asked Aveline to marry him. It took her three tries to get out a yes that wasn't a squeak and that what made Hawke's day.

* * *

A letter from the Viscount had Hawke heading into the Keep. However before we met with the Viscount, he paid Aveline a visit and discovered she was having a meeting with Seneschal Bran.

"It's a fine suit," she said not even looking at it.

"The finest," said Bran gesturing to the guardsmen wearing a shiny new plate of armour.

"Break it down. Distribute it."

Bran now at his eyes. "The viscount requires parade armour for his inspections."

"Then stuff it and mount it where he can see it. I wear the uniform of the guard," Aveline spat.

"His Excellency will not be pleased."

"His Excellency can mount it."

With that both Bran and the guardsmen left her office and she turned turning to him. "Trouble, Hawke?"

"Seems like you have enough."

"You don't know the half of it." She shook her head in frustration before glaring at him. "And why don't you, by the way? Why aren't you tail deep in the problems of this city? Sure you do good, but petition a title, take a job. The guard is always looking."

"Don't blame me for not being you. I'd make a poor guard."

"Well, we agree on that." Her smile softened the glare. "I don't really see you taking my orders. Besides, you won't catch me saying you don't have an effect. You've certainly had one on Hightown."

"But?" She was worried about something.

"Maybe it's time to get serious. Before the option isn't your own." She leaned on her desk.

"You don't want me as sour and dour as you. You need a counterpoint."

"I don't think I've asked to be made the butt of your jokes."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Donnic."

She folded her arms, and then conceded the point. "Okay, sometimes I have asked for it. I do wish there was more time for… levity. It comes so easy to you. Maybe a little too easy. That's all I'm saying."

* * *

Hawke went up to the Viscount's office Viscount Dumar was pacing. "It is apparently not enough that the Qunari define my political life. They must also infect what I hold personal." He turned to face Hawke. "It is my son, Saemus. The life you saved, he would now squander by converting to the Qun. He has left for the Qunari Compound." Dumar gave him a beseeching look. "Please, Serah Hawke. Convince Saemus to come home."

"Did anyone else see him leaving for the compound?"

Viscount Dumar's shoulders slumped. "He made no secret of it. I'm sure he intended it as another of his 'statements' about closer relations." He folded his arms. "Your example inspired him. I might agree, but now is not the time. These matters are…" He sighed. "Delicate."

"He is of age. The decision seems rightly his." If it was genuinely what Saemus wanted… He wasn't close with the young man, but they were friends in their way.

"I want to let him find his way, but in my position…" Dumar leaned on his desk. "He's taken a great deal of inspiration from you. I want to allow his idealism, but not blindly. At best, my opponents will claim that my office is now in Qunari hands. At worst…" Dumar's voice broke slightly. "I lose my son."

Hawke had a bad feeling about this the other hunch the Viscount new as well. "You know this will only end in trouble."

"Fitting. That's where it started." He then gave him a hopeful look. "My son is not foolish. He will listen to reason. And you are in the best position to offer that opportunity. Please, do what you can."

* * *

Aveline, Sebastian, and Merrill were waiting for him when he left the Viscount's office. He filled them in on the move, and started heading for the compound. They were moving through Lowtown when mercenaries attacked. And were promptly splattered all over the alley. "So was that anti-Qunari, anti-viscount, or Saemus himself not wanting to be rescued?"

Hawke shook his head. "Saemus isn't the type. Let's go." And Saemus and the Arishok both had a very good idea of their capabilities. Neither would have been foolish enough to send a small band of half-competent thugs.

* * *

"Serah Hawke." The Arishok didn't appear surprised to see him.

"I'm here about the viscount's son."

"Are you?" The Arishok settled back on his bench. "In four years I have made no threat, and fanatics have lined up to hate us simply because we exist. But despite lies and fear, _bas_ still beg me to let them come to the Qun. They hunger for purpose. The son has made a choice. You will not deny him that."

No. He wouldn't, but sadly was not up to him. "No doubt you can see the advantage of having the Viscount's son at arm's reach."

"He is no longer the Viscount's son. _Viddathari_ give up their lives for certainty only Qunari know."

"You would not take advantage of his connections?" Hawke asked sceptically.

"The Qun may demand that advantage, but I do not. It was his choice to be educated. He is not my prisoner." The Arishok gestured. "He is not even here. He went to his father. Ask the viscount why he would send you and a letter both."

Hawke blinked. "That seems… strange." He could feel a chill trying to climb up his spine.

"They are meeting at the chantry. A last, pointless appeal, I assume."

Sebastian shook his head. "The viscount has not tried to involve the Chantry before."

"No." Hawke sighed. "But we know who would. Mother Petrice." He really should have just killed her.

The Arishok frowned. "A suspect in many things. If she has threatened someone under my command again, there is only one response."

On that, they could agree. "I've had about enough of Petrice. Several times over.

"A threat against _viddathari_ can have only one answer. I will suffer only one outcome." The Arishok gave him a nod. "I will be watching, Hawke. The demand of the Qun is clear."

* * *

They ran as fast they could to the Chantry, but it was too late. Saemus was already dead, his body kneeling behind of the statue of Andraste body Hawke placed a hand on him and he toppled over.

He then heard Petrice's voice. "Serah Hawke, look at what you have done." She sounded smug. "To pounce upon the viscount's son, a repentant convert, in the chantry itself? A crime with no excuse." She gestured at the armed men with her. "Your Qunari masters will finally answer."

Slowly, he rose to his feet. "You've been a headache, but outright kill someone? That's new for you."

She narrowed her eyes. "He deliberately denied the Maker! How many would have followed him if he went unpunished?" She gestured. "And yet, even this sympathiser will inspire vengeance when his brutal murderer is exposed."

Hawke couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You won't get the Qunari ousted, you'll get a slaughter. On both sides."

"To die untested would be the real crime. People need the opportunity to defend faith. Starting with you." She turned to the people with her. "Earn your reward in this life and the next. These heretics must die."

Hawke sighed. With the exception of a couple templars, she was sending unarmored men against him, Merrill, the Prince of Starkhaven, and the Captain of the Kirkwall Guard. While Sebastian picked off a few targets. He and Merrill guarded one set of stairs while Aveline stood on the other. Hawke just shrugged, and called up a tempest, forcing any who wanted to try their luck at him to first pass through a gauntlet of lightning.

Sebastian gave voice to a similar sentiment. "Maker preserve their stupid, stupid souls."

* * *

Petrice led Grand Cleric Elthina into the hall. "Do you see, Your Grace? Traitors attacking the very core of the Chantry. They defile with every step."

Elthina's eyes traced over the state of the room. Her gaze went first to Sebastian, then to Aveline, and then to Hawke. "There is death in every corner, young mother. It is as you predicted." Her eyes narrowed. "All too well."

"Forgive me, Your Grace," said Hawke bowing. "But you must know the truth about what happened here."

"She's on to you, Petrice." Gabriel smiled. "Quick, lie harder." Was Petrice just completely oblivious to who he was with?

"Don't you spout your Qunari filth. This is a hand of the Divine," Petrice spat.

"I have ears, Mother Petrice." Elthina's voice was firm, a mother tired of misbehaving children. "The Maker would have me use them."

Hawke gave her an apologetic look. "Viscount Dumar's son is dead, killed here in your name."

She closed her eyes for a moment, sorrow filling her features. "I'm sure my name won't like that." She turned to look at Petrice, her pale eyes cold. "Petrice?"

"Saemus Dumar was a Qunari convert. He came here to repent and was murdered." Petrice stumbled over the lie.

"It's a ruse, Your Grace. Saemus was killed set people against the Qunari," Hawke said. He gestured at the bodies. Sebastian stood near the still form of Saemus.

Petrice actually shook a fist at him. "This is no longer a matter of heathens squatting in the docks. People are leaving us to join them!"

"And we must play them like any other." Elthina cut Petrice off.

"They deny the Maker," Petrice said, her eyes hot with hatred.

"And you diminish Him, even as you claim His side." Elthina's face was calm with disapproval. "Andraste did not volunteer for the flame." She turned back towards them. "Serah Hawke, you stand with the captain of the guard?" He saw Petrice's eyes widen as he nodded. It was clear that she had no idea who Aveline was. Elthina returned his nod. "The young mother has erred in her judgment. A court will decide her fate. The Chantry respects the law, and so must she."

"Grand Cleric?" Petrice's face was shocked. Had she actually thought of herself as some kind of diabolical genius? Gamlen could have plotted this better. "Grand Cleric!" She stared beseechingly as Elthina started back up the stairs. Then she turned to face them. Her eyes suddenly widened as she caught sight of something over his shoulder, and an arrow suddenly appeared in her chest. She fell to her knees.

Hawke turned to see a Qunari archer fire a second arrow, this one catching Petrice between the eyes. He sighed and the man looked at him. "We protect those of the Qun. We do not abandon our own."

"Please," Elthina's voice came back through the room. He looked up at her. Her facial expression hadn't changed at the sight of the Qunari or the dead Petrice. "Send for Viscount Dumar."

* * *

He stood protectively as Dumar cradled his son's body. Below, servants were removing the other corpses. "My son," Dumar said softly, tears falling from his eyes. "Murdered in the heart of the chantry, by those who held a sacred trust. What hope for this city, when we fail our own so completely?"

Hawke wished he knew what to say. "The Arishok is still here, Excellency. You must be ready to stand up to him."

"I cannot. I have already failed where it mattered most. Please, Hawke. Leave me."

He hesitated a moment, then glanced over at where Elthina stood. She nodded to him. He returned the gesture, then followed his companions out of the Chantry.

* * *

"Schisms and conspiracies within the Chantry itself." Cassandra paced.

"A perfectly normal situation then," Leliana sighed. "One that went entirely too far. A reoccurring theme in Kirkwall."

Cassandra nodded. "Could the Resolutionists have played a role in this as well?"

Leliana nearly snorted. "Give them some credit, Cassandra. Had they, I'm sure they could have come up with a far better plan than 'accuse the Prince of Starkhaven, the Champion of Kirkwall, a Dalish elf and the Captain of the Kirkwall Guard of being Qunari supporters'."

"That's…" Cassandra smiled. "A very good point."


	30. Demands of the Qun

He heard Aveline and Isabela arguing as he headed into the hall. "This is important. Don't interrupt with your selfish prattle."

"Get off your high horse," Isabela retorted. "I have problems, too."

Aveline scoffed. "'What drink should I order?' and 'who's the father'?"

"Oh, you little…" Isabela actually raised her hand to slap Aveline.

"What is it now, you two?" said Hawke and the two ladies looked at him.

"Hawke," Aveline stepped forward. "The Arishok is sheltering two fugitives who have 'converted' to the Qun. He must be convinced to release them." She shook her head. "He's already feared because of Petrice. If people start to think he can ignore the law…" She sighed. "I need your help so this doesn't get out of hand."

Isabela shoved herself between him and Aveline. "I'm going to die." She gestured. "There. Got your attention. Real problem."

"Hold on. What's this about?"

"Remember the relic? The one Castillon is going to kill me over? A man called Wall-Eyed Sam has it." She gestured. "If you help me get it, Castillon won't kill me. Please."

Aveline glared. "I'm trying to keep this entire city from rioting against the Qunari."

"Well," Isabela turned away, and stared at the fireplace. "Maybe it's connected."

"What?" Aveline asked as she and Hawke turned on her. "Now you start being responsible? Shit."

He sighed, and asked first Aveline, and then Isabela, for details. And discovered that Isabela had known what the relic was all along. If it was connected to the Qunari… He gave Aveline an apologetic look. "The relic issue has to be resolved before we take on the Qunari."

"You trust her this much?" Aveline asked.

"Probably not. I wouldn't." Isabela smiled.

"They won't wait at the compound forever, Hawke. I really do hope this helps, because if it doesn't…"

"You think I like having this thing on my mind?" Isabela asked. She then grabbed Hawke's arm and forced him out of his estate. "Come on. This exchange is happening tonight in Lowtown's foundry."

* * *

The Seeker interrupted with a glare. "Are you sure about this? The Champion was asked to go to the Qunari?"

"I suppose you think he planned the entire thing?"

"Considering what it led to…"

"Come on, Seeker. I'm not going to sell Hawke short, but nobody could have foreseen the way that would go down." Varric shrugged. "Or do you still think I'm lying to protect my friend?"

"There are elements of your story that…" The Seeker shook her head. "Make sense. And you couldn't have known about them otherwise."

"Well, that's a relief."

"But that doesn't mean you're telling me everything."

"I want this story to be told. You're not the first to get it all wrong." Varric leaned forward. "I think I owe Hawke that much."

* * *

"Hold." The Qunari blocked their path. "You will surrender the relic."

"I don't have your stupid relic," Isabela said.

"The _bas_ has no honour. Kill it."

It was an easy, but they were able to defend themselves against the Qunari.

Hawke then turned to look at Isabela. It appeared that the relic just might be related after all. Which meant she'd been lying to him for the better part of four years. "What are the Qunari doing here?" he asked.

"Uh… yes." Isabela wouldn't meet his eyes. "About that. The relic belongs to the Qunari, and there's a small chance they want it back."

"Do the Qunari look like the sharing type to you? Of course they want it back."

"I've always known what the relic is. I just didn't want to…" She looked down at her feet. "Worry you."

"You're the picture of kindness, Rivaini," Varric grumbled.

She fiddled with her bracer, and sighed. "The relic is a Qunari text handwritten by that philosopher of theirs. Keslan, Cousland… whatever his name is."

Next to him, Fenris stared. "Koslun?"

"That's the one," Isabela said, pointing at him.

"The founder of their religion, the most revered being in their history?" Fenris gestured. "That text would be sacred beyond measure."

Isabela nodded. "I stole it from them, they followed me here to reclaim it, and it's why they're still in Kirkwall."

Aveline growled. "And they can't leave without it. All of this could have been avoided."

"Maybe giving it back would solve Aveline's problem," said Hawke.

"It couldn't hurt." Aveline stared daggers at Isabela.

"Says you." Isabela stared back. "I know it will save my skin."

She shook her head and sighed. "Why can't this be as easy as you?" Aveline asked.

Hawke shook his head. "Sounds like the Qunari take their reading very seriously."

"Is there anything the Qunari don't take seriously?" Isabela gave him a hopeful smile.

"I'm sure there's something," said Merrill. "Maybe knock-knock jokes?"

"You just keep working on that, Daisy. Let us know if you figure it out," said Varric.

"Look, the book's right in this building, and I'm not letting it slip away again," said Isabela.

"There's more at stake. But…" Aveline sighed. "The Arishok waited this long. Ugh. I don't know."

"It's the only thing that'll get Castillon off my back. Please tell me you'll give the relic to me."

There were hundreds of Qunari, and a city at stake. Castillon was just one man and angering he wouldn't start a war. "The artifact belongs to the Qunari, and you'll let them leave with it."

"Don't you understand? The relic is the only thing that will keep Castillon from feeding me to the sharks. I can't believe you're…" She threw up her hands. "Ugh." She sighed. "Fine. You're right. I'll return the relic. It'll go straight to the Qunari once we get it." She started walking towards the foundry. "Come on. We've no time to waste."

Hawke knew she was lying, but he really did have any time to contradict her.

* * *

Tevinter was involved and then more Qunari appeared. Sam ran for it, and Isabela gave chase. As much as he wanted to go after her, the mages throwing fireballs presented a slightly more immediate concern, as did the horned giants with very big swords. He and Merrill threw up a barrier, and then brought down a firestorm while Fenris and Aveline kept the armed men from closing while Varric picked them off with Bianca.

The fight lasted only a minute, but it was enough time for Isabela a good head start.

"She's gone. She took it. That bitch-born whore." Aveline's face was furious. "Well, now we get to deal with the Arishok and the fugitives ourselves. That's good." She sighed.

He clenched his fists. "That's enough. Let's go to the compound."

* * *

He flanked Aveline as she approached the compound. She nodded to the guard. "I request an audience with the Arishok."

"He will allow it, but not in this number." The guard folded his arms.

"I will bring only my friend here and a small complement of my guard. Is that few enough?"

"It is." The guard opened the gate. "Enter."

He had a very bad feeling about this.

* * *

The Arishok met them standing, weapon in hand. Probably not a good sign. " _Shanedan_."

Aveline stepped forward. "Greetings, Arishok. We come regarding the elven fugitives that took refuge here."

"Irrelevant." The Arishok stepped past her to look at Hawke. "I would speak to Hawke about the relic stolen from my grasp."

He wasn't expecting him to get the news this past. "One of my former companions stole it."

"Her part was clear. Your admission…" The Arishok nodded to him. "Is welcome."

Aveline tried to draw attention back to herself. "An issue for another time. We're here for the fugitives."

"The elves are now _viddathari_. They have chosen to submit to the Qun." He narrowed his eyes. "They will be protected."

"Have they truly converted, or are they simply using you as a shield?" Maybe it could still be salvaged, but he had a feeling the Arishok had made his decision before they'd even walked through the gate.

The Arishok's next words confirmed it. "They have chosen, and so have I. You have not hidden the abuses of your zealots, or the corruption of this city. You will understand why I must do this." He gestured. "Let us look at your 'dangerous' criminals. Speak, viddathari. Who did you murder and why?"

The older of the two elves stepped forward. "A city guard forced himself on our sister. We reported him…" The elf clinched his fists angrily. "Or tried to. But they did nothing about it, no matter what we said. So my brothers and I paid him a visit."

"That doesn't excuse murder," Aveline said.

"Are these elves telling the truth?" Hawke asked.

"There have been rumours," Aveline admitted. "I will investigate, but they still took the law into their own hands."

"Sometimes that is necessary," the Arishok said.

"Like you avenged the viscount's son? It was not right then, and it's not right now."

Hawke could tell instantly that this was going to end badly. "We're just here for the elves."

"Their actions are mere symptoms. Your society is the disease. They have chosen. The _viddathari_ will submit to the Qun and find a path your way has denied them."

Aveline shook her head. "You can't just decide that. You must hand them over."

The Arishok took a few steps away, then turned back and looked at him. "Tell me, Hawke: what would you do, in my place?"

Hawke began to form the barrier spell in his mind. "They deserve another chance."

The Arishok's nod was surprisingly respectful. "Exactly so. I cannot leave without the relic, and I cannot stay and remain blind to this dysfunction. There is only one solution."

She tried. She saw it coming, but still tried. "Arishok, there is no need for—"

He interrupted her with a gesture. And gave the order. " _Vinek kathas_."

That's when they began to toss spears at them and struck down three of the guards with them. Aveline blocked with a sword and another one bounced off Hawkes barrier. A Qunari rushed at him and he grabbed his spear arm and punched him in the face. At the corner of his eye he saw Aveline stabbing her sword in another.

He went for his staff, and Aveline grabbed his arm. "Not here. Too open. Go. Go."

A qunari tried to block his path, and he punched the larger man in the face. On the other side of the gate, Merrill, Fenris, Varric, and the other guards were moving, getting the gate open.

* * *

They fled. There was really no other word for it. They ran like hell until they found a sheltered area. Already, the docks were starting to burn. "Can you hear it?" Aveline wiped blood off her brow, and he moved forward to provide healing. "The Qunari must be spreading out. They're attacking the city." She let him tend her. "Why? What could they possibly hope to accomplish?"

"It doesn't matter—we need to act."

She nodded. "I agree." She turned to look at the others. "We should head to the Keep to rally my guardsmen. Whatever happens, be careful."

* * *

They weren't far from Gamlen's house when they were attacked by yet another group of Qunari. A _saarebas_ blew up the ground beneath Aveline's feet, sending her flying. Another qunari raised his blade to deliver a killing blow to the downed woman. An arrow caught the qunari in the eye before the blade fell. Hawke blinked as he realized a band Grey Wardens was also in the fight.

A few feet from him, a familiar face cut down one of the last of the qunari warriors. "Somehow, I knew it would be you."

"Carver!" Hawke said.

"Hello, big brother. Fancy meeting you here." Carver shrugged, and then glanced at the other wardens.

"Are you injured? Are there more of you?"

"I'm good, but we're not the help you need."

One of the Wardens then approached them and he recognised him as Stroud, one that they met in the Deep Roads. "You have our sincere thanks. This attack was… most unexpected."

Carver glanced towards the city, and then shook his head reluctantly. "Stroud, we need to move. We've already delayed too long."

"Very true." Stroud shook his head. "I cannot believe the Qunari would dare such an attack. This will lead to war with the Free Marches for certain." He gave Hawke an apologetic nod. "I fear pressing matters take us elsewhere, but we can spread word to the other free cities. Perhaps they will bring aid."

Hawke looked at Carver. "Wait—I need to tell you about Mother."

Carver closes eyes. "I already know what happened. I'm sure you did your best."

Stroud gave the two brothers are sympathetic look. "This is not the time." He then gestured for Hawke to come closer. "Take this. It is all we can spare, but perhaps it will be of use."

Stroud gave them a ring and after giving him a respectful nod the Wardens began to leave.

"Goodbye, big brother. Take care of yourself," said Carver.

"Maker watch over you, my friend," Stroud said.

Hawke watched as they walked down the burning streets and looked down at the ring.

* * *

A woman was screaming as a Qunari dragged her through the Hightown market. The Qunari dropped her as he caught sight of them.

" _Teth a! Bas!_ "

"Then the Arishok failed to take you captive. Unfortunate."

The Qunari rushed at them and Hawke drew out his staff and blast of the oncoming soldiers with ice. Merrill assisted by shooting lightning from the tip of her staff which gave the Qunari a wide berth.

Aveline and the four guards with her moved in, taking advantage of the barrier spell to close. Fenris remained near him, keeping the Qunari back as he and Merrill threw spells more or less everywhere. Varric kept up a steady rate of fire, and between him, Merrill and Hawke, the Qunari were unable to regroup to deal with the warriors.

Then suddenly there were hit back by an explosion, Fenris, Merrill and Varric flying. He blinked, trying to focus his magic as he saw the saarebas gather another spell. The magic died in the saarebas's hands, and a heartbeat later, the saarebas's head rolled through the courtyard. The saarebas collapsed, revealing a blond woman in templar armour.

She walked to him and offered him a hand up. He accepted. She nodded. "I am Knight-Commander Meredith." She blinked. "I know you. The name 'Hawke' has turned up in my reports many times. Too many."

Aveline stepped forward. "It's good that we found you, Knight-Commander. The Qunari are—"

"It's obvious what they're doing." She gestured. "The Qunari are taking people to the Keep and may already be in control. We will need to deal with them."

Gathering people. Not just slaughtering. Possibly a good sign. Maybe. "Why would they be gathering hostages?" He glanced at Fenris.

"They're going to take everyone of import and put them in the same place." Fenris shrugged. "Those that agree to convert, live. Those that don't…"

"Charming," Meredith said.

Hawke knew there was no way of getting himself out of this, but there were more far more pressing matters than a loan apostates and the Knight-Commander would want as much help as possible.

"I'll do whatever it takes to defend my home," said Hawke.

"Good." She nodded. "I'll overlook your own use of magic, for the moment." She gestured. "Head to the Keep, and I will see if I can find more of my men. These creatures will pay for this outrage."

Aveline and the guards gave him a worried look as Meredith walked away. He shrugged. Nothing to be done about it now. He started for the Viscount's Keep.

* * *

They ran through the streets and saw mages battling the Qunari, but while they were putting up a good fight they were outnumbered. By the time they reached them and defeated the Qunari only survivor was First Enchanter Orsino himself.

"Many thanks, my friend," Orsino groaned as Hawke helped him up.

"You don't seem as badly injured as the others," said Hawke examining him.

Orsino looked up. "The others? Surely they cannot all be…" He stopped when he saw the bodies of the mages. He ran up to one of the bodies and fell to his knees. "Gone. I told them to run…"

They were interrupted by the arrival of Meredith along with a dozen templars behind her. He recognized Moira and Cullen. "First Enchanter Orsino. You survive."

"Your relief overwhelms me, Knight-Commander." It was so good to see everyone get along.

Meredith narrowed her eyes. "There is no time for talk. We must strike back, before it's too late."

Orsino shook his head. "And who will lead us into this battle? You?"

"I fight to defend this city, as I have always done."

"To control it, you mean. I won't have our lives tossed to the flames to feed your vanity."

Hawke shook his head, and then slammed the butt of his staff into the ground and everyone turned to look at him. "We need to work together, not kill each other while we figure out who leads!" said Hawke firmly.

"Then perhaps you should lead us," said Orsino.

"What? You're not even of this city." Meredith stared.

Orsino looked at her. "Neither am I, yet I don't hear you complaining about us both fighting to defend our home."

A moment later, Meredith nodded. "Very well, then. But whatever you plan, be quick about it."

Orsino turned to him. "Tell us, then: what is a course of action?"

"Let's find out what the Qunari are planning, but not risk our own necks in the process," said Hawke.

"An excellent choice. Let's move quickly." Meredith gestured at her templars.

* * *

They soon reached the Keep, but found the Qunari were in complete control. They saw several of the soldiers guarding the entrance, far too many of them to fight and there was no telling what was inside.

"There seem to be a great many of Qunari at the Keep's entrance," Orsino observed.

"Then they've already taken it over," said Meredith. "Clearly, they've been planning this for some time."

"I don't see any of my guardsmen." Aveline's voice was worried.

Meredith put a hand on her sword. "This is the only way in. We must assault them now, before their numbers grow."

"Are you mad?" Orsino shook his head. "They have hostages. We need a distraction."

She started to step towards Orsino, then glanced at Hawke. "Decide quickly. We have no time."

Hawke agreed with Orsino's plan is the best way in with fewer casualties. "A direct result is too risky."

"We'll need to get you inside and catch up as soon as we can.""

"And just how will we do this?" Meredith raised an eyebrow.

Orsino gave her a confident look as he unlimbered his staff. "Have confidence, Knight-Commander." He stepped out, and started walking right towards the Qunari. A few moments later, several of the Qunari were on fire, and the rest were chasing after the mage. Hawke gestured for the templars to go to his aid, then headed into the keep.

* * *

He put a hand on Aveline's shoulder as they saw the body of her guardsmen. She nodded to him, then walked to the end of the hall and kicked the door open.

They'd arrived too late for Viscount Dumar. The Arishok casually tossed the man's head down the stairs. Hawke narrowed his eyes. He'd liked the Viscount.

"You dare!" One of the nobles stepped forward. "You are starting a war." A Qunari stepped forward and snapped the nobleman's neck.

The Arishok shook his head. "Look at you. Like fat _dathrasi_ you feed and feed and complain only when your meal is interrupted. You do not look up. You do not see that the grass is bare. All you leave in your wake is misery. You are blind. I will make you see."

He looked up at Hawke and his companions. "But we have guests." He set his sword on his shoulders. " _Shanedan_ , Hawke. I expected you." He started down the stairs. " _Maraas toh ebra-shok_. You alone are _basalit-an_." He gave an angry look at the crowd. "This is what respect looks like, bas. Some of you will never earn it." He turned his gaze back to Hawke. "So tell me, Hawke: You know I am denied Par Vollen until the Tome of Koslun is found. How would you see this conflict resolved without it?"

It was clear that he was going to be a fight to the death, but then the door swung open. They turned and found a Qunari been tossed onto the floor and stepping over him was Isabela with the tome in under her arm.

"I believe I can answer that," she said as she strolled into the room, boot heels clicking. She shoved the book at the Arishok. "I'm sure you'll find it's mostly undamaged."

"The Tome of Koslun."

She glanced at Hawke. "It took me a while to get back, what with all the fighting everywhere. You know how it is."

He smiled at her. "I thought you'd be long gone by now."

Her face took on a frustrated look. "This is your damned influence, Hawke." She sighed. "I was halfway to Ostwick before I knew I had to turn around. It's pathetic."

The Arishok handed the book to another Qunari. "The relic is reclaimed. I am now free to return to Par Vollen— with the thief."

"What?" Isabela's face revealed her shock.

"Oh, no, no, no." Aveline stepped forward. "If anyone kicks her ass, it's me."

"She stole the Tome of Koslun." The Arishok met Hawke's eyes. "She must return with us."

He narrowed his eyes at him. "You have your relic. She stays with us."

"I'm sure he'll take that well." Varric gave Isabela a worried look. "Rivaini? You might want to move a bit this way."

"Then you leave me no choice." The Arishok pointed at Hawke. "I challenge you, Hawke. You and I will battle to the death, with her as the prize."

Isabela shook her head frantically. "No. If you're going to duel anyone, duel me."

"You are not basalit-an. You are unworthy."

"I accept your challenge." Hawke saw Merrill's eyes widen with fear as Hawke accepted the challenge.

" _Meravas_. So shall it be."

* * *

The Arishok was a foot taller than he was, and wider. The massive horned man held an axe in one hand, and a sword in the other. It was not going to be easy fight, the Arishok's advantage was that he was an expert in close combat, his advantage was that he was skilled in magic something the Qunari know very little about. The Arishok charged at Hawke and at once he froze the ground beneath his feet. The Arishok lost his footing and Hawke blasted him with a blast of gravity. There was a gasp from the collected nobles as the spell manifested. Well, everyone knew he was a mage now.

However, the Arishok quickly recovered, faster than he anticipated and swung his blade that him. Hawke managed to block them with his staff and used the momentum to elbow him in the face pushing him back. Hawke then blasted him with a fireball that knocked him into one of the pillars. This did not stop the Arishok who charged at him, Hawke knew he had watch how he cast his spells for the crowd of people around him. Unfortunately, the Arishok did not have the same problem and swung his blades down on top of him.

The staff twirled in his hands, sending forth several blasts of ice, and then parrying a blow from the axe and disarmed him. He then ducked the blade of his staff into his side, but was not back by a back fist. He then created a firestorm to push the Arishok back, but he managed to grab his axe and use them to shield his face. The Arishok did lose some ground, but his determination was relentless and he sliced right through his spell. Hawke quickly raised staff in order to block the Arishok's swipes, but the axe grazed on his hip he winced in pain as he clutched his side.

There were many gasps of horror, but he pushed the Arishok back with her bolt of lightning. He had hoped that he pushed him further enough away so we could hear himself, but the Arishok was faster than he looked. Hawke sprayed out a blast of ice, spun to the side, and sent a more focused blast. He then fell onto one knee, he had used a lot of mana and he had very little of it left. The Arishok gave a triumphant smile as he turned for another charge. In one last desperate attempt he electrified the blade of his staff and raised it just in time impaling the Arishok.

The Arishok's eyes widened and he dropped his weapons. He looked at his hand which was covered in blood up to Hawke. "One day, we shall return," he said with his last breath.

The Arishok then went limp and Hawke turned the remaining Qunari. Fortunately, the Qunari did not attack, they picked up the Arishok's weapons. He gave Hawke a respectful bow, and then, slowly, the Qunari started to leave.

Behind him, the doors opened. Meredith entered, followed by several dozen templars and Orsino. She stopped in her tracks. "Is it over?"

He nodded to her. Everyone in Kirkwall knew he was a mage. If the templars wanted to take him, he was too tied to resist. But Isabela was safe. He supposed that was all that mattered. "It's over."

Around them, a cheer began to go up. "The city has been saved," someone called out.

Meredith glared. Then she slowly walked towards him. "Well done." She nodded. "It appears Kirkwall has a new champion."

* * *

Varric looked at the Seeker. "You seem confused, Seeker."

"The Champion killed the Arishok in single combat? It just sounds so… romantic."

Varric raised an eyebrow. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're developing a little crush."

"Don't be ridiculous," said the Seeker, a little bit too defensively. "The Champion just seems very… heroic in your tale."

"Mm-hmm," said Varric not convinced.

"If you're telling the truth." She shook her head. "If you are, then…" She sighed. "What happened at the Gallows may be far different than we assumed. I need to hear it."

"Let's say I tell you. Then what?" He folded his arms. "Are you hunting for an infamous apostate? Is that what this is all about? Or is it revenge?"

"No. It's not that," the Seeker assured.

"Then what about me? If what I tell you isn't that you want to hear, will you still let me go?"

"I will let you go," the Seeker promised.

"Well, now we're talking," Varric smiled.

"None of this is what I thought it would be," secret admitted. "Tell me what really happened."


	31. Choosing Sides

" _'Champion of Krikwall,' that was the reward. A fine title. Every noble at the Keep owed the Champion their lives. He wasn't just a hero, he was now the most important person in the city. Except for Knight-Commander Meredith, of course. With the Viscount dead, she stepped in to keep order. Things quickly got out of hand. The more she squeezed the mages, the more they resisted. The more they resisted, the tighter she squeezed. At the three years of that, it all came crashing down."_

* * *

They gave him a medal. And a title. And they didn't lock him away in the Gallows. That last part was fairly nice.

It became clear, very quickly, that the title came with a few strings attached. As Champion, solving Kirkwall's problems was now his official duty, instead of just a hobby. It was rather remarkable how little everyone knowing he was a mage changed his life.

However, he had different duties today, because the day was the marriage between Aveline and Donnic. Aveline, who had no living male relatives, had asked him to give her away at the ceremony and had Merrill for her bridesmaid.

He watched as Merrill was fussing over the flowers again. Bodhan was fussing over, well, everything. He sighed. If Aveline had really wanted a nice, quiet ceremony, she really shouldn't have told any of their friends. And she certainly shouldn't have told any of the guard.

He led Aveline up the aisle, and took his assigned place. Merrill was crying. Varric was pretending he wasn't, and failing, much to the amusement of Isabela. He wasn't sure if it was Sebastian's doing, but Grand Cleric Elthina herself performed the ceremony.

Orana was shocked to learn that the jewels he'd given her to wear at the wedding were hers to keep. At the very least she would be able to sell them for enough to get her wherever she wanted to go in case things went down hill.

* * *

He saw Aveline and Donnic off as they headed towards the honeymooning Orlais and promised that he would look after the city while she was gone. He spent the next few weeks taking down bandits and rogue mages.

He can help but notice the tension between the mages and templars was a lot more intense than it normally was. It also didn't help that Meredith kept on refusing to appoint a new viscount, which caused a bit of strife with the nobles, but none of them wanted to challenge her.

Then he saw Brennan running towards him. "Serah Hawke, we have a problem at the keep."

Hawke groaned. "What's the matter guardsmen?"

"It's First Enchanter Orisno, he's giving and a public speech against the Knight-Commander."

"Does she know?"

"Yes, she sailing across from the Gallows as we speak."

"I'll handle it," Hawke assured.

This was another part of his duties as Champion, plain diplomat between the mages and templars. He was well-respected between the two factions, but Meredith had been cracking down hard in the recent years and it had caused the mages to strike back.

Hawke fear that they might be at the start of another war and they had only just recovered from the Qunari.

* * *

He reached the keep and saw that Brennan and spoken the truth he saw Orsino on the stairs leading to the Viscount's keep with the whole crowd of people looking at him.

"I know you fear us," he said. "Knight-Commander Meredith uses that fear to take control of your city! She opposes every effort to a place Viscount Dumar, and you have seen the chaos of her reign! Will you allow it?"

It looked like that he had reached a few of the people, but then Hawke noticed Meredith herself had just arrived with several templars at her side.

"Return to your homes. This farce is over," she said.

Hawke sighed, and started to walk over. Orsino saw him. "Wait! Perhaps there are some who might disagree with you, Knight-Commander."

Meredith shook his head. "The Champion has proven himself Kirkwall's greatest defender. I doubt that he favours sedition."

"It would be better if you both calmed down, before this gets violent," he suggested. He hoped they would be a lot more reasonable than Petrice.

"I should remain calm while this mage provokes an uprising?" Meredith snarled as she narrowed her eyes at Orsino. "I think not."

"I think the Champion's views would be appreciated." Orsino walked down the stairs. "Or do you fear what he has to say?"

"Not at all. Do you agree with the first enchanter's accusations, Champion?"

"What are you trying to do here?" Hawke looked at Orsino. "Cause a rebellion?"

"The people of this city need to know what is really happening," Orsino replied.

"And then what?" Meredith asked. "They tear down the Gallows with pitchforks and torches? That would be better?"

"It cannot be worse." Orsino glared at her. "Your refusal to listen to reason leaves me no choice."

"What I refuse to listen to are excuses!" She pointed a threatening finger at Orsino. "Perhaps you are ill-fit to your position if you cannot understand this."

"You're hardly receptive to whatever gets in your way," Hawke pointed out.

Meredith narrowed her eyes. "And I become less receptive each moment this nonsense continues."

He raised a hand in a calming gesture. "Your measures have become more extreme over the past few years."

"And you could do better?" She shook her head. "How well did you guard your own mother? Did she not die at a blood mage's hands?"

Hawke had to admit she had a point. "You're right. We are hardly the ones to bear that grief."

Meredith nodded. "Precisely. As long as that's true, Kirkwall needs its templars more than it needs a new ruler."

"And when will that end?" Orsino asked. "When will you stop seeing evil in every corner?"

"When it's no longer there." Meredith's eyes were ice.

"The first enchanter accused you of taking control of the city," said Hawke.

"The city!" Meredith spat. "I'm trying to keep order until there is a new ruler capable of succeeding where Dumar failed."

"And if not? Will the templars rule Kirkwall forever?" Orsino asked.

"We will not stand idle while the city burned around us," said Meredith firmly.

"The Templar Order exists to guard the Chantry and the Circle," Orsino reminded. "I suggest you let the nobility rule the city."

Meredith glared at him. "I do not need you or anyone to tell me what my duty is, mage."

"The first enchanter is right. You should be ruling Kirkwall," said Hawke.

"And yet I shall continue, until such a time as the city is safe," said Meredith firmly.

Orsino looked a Hawke. "Do you see? She is incapable of reason!"

Hawke had to admit they both had excellent points, but the fact of the matter was that Meredith had no right to rule the city, she had already insisted to have her templars to guard the halls within the keep. At first it was because the guard had lost quite a few numbers, but most of the templars within believed that the guard served them.

"No matter what, Knight-Commander, he has a point," said Hawke to Meredith.

"Face the truth, Knight-Commander," said Orsino turning on Meredith. "You are done."

"That is for me to decide. No one else!" Meredith roared.

He was about to step all the way between them when the crowd parted to allow Grand Cleric Elthina through. "My, my, such a terrible commotion."

"This mage incites rebellion, Your Grace." Meredith gestured. "I am dealing with the matter."

Elthina nodded, her expression serious. "Ah, Orsino. So frustrated. Do you think this is truly wise?"

"I…" And the man finally found his sense of self-preservation. "No, Your Grace."

"Of course not." She turned to the templars. "Young men, would you show the first enchanter back to the Circle? Gently, if you please."

"Your Grace." Meredith shook her head in protest. "He should be clapped in irons, made an example—"

"That's enough, Meredith." The Grand Cleric's voice was firm, and sharp. "This demeans us all, surely you can see that? Go back to the Gallows and calm down, like a good girl." Elthina waited until Meredith had stalked off before turning to him. "You have my thanks for stepping in, Champion. If you had not…"

"Short of putting those two in cells, I doubt anything will keep them from each other," said Hawke grimly.

Elthina sighed. "Sadly true." She then turned to the crowd. "Gentle people of Kirkwall… return to your homes, I implore you. This will not be resolved today."

The crowd began to disperse and Hawke wondered whether they would ever be peace between mages and templars. If the solution was not to be found, he feared war may start and he had no idea who would become the victor or who would be left standing.

* * *

Leliana paced thoughtfully. "It was Meredith who named him Champion, after all. If Varric is being truthful, she certainly seemed to expect his allegiance. And we know both she and Grand Cleric Elthina made requests of him, in that position."

"It is odd, that she would allow a mage to live openly, when she was supposedly cracking down on the gallows. Varric's story is inconsistent."

"No. Meredith was simply being prudent." Leliana gestured at where a map was laid out on the table, and then touched her finger to several markings. "Kirkwall was threatened four times during his time as Champion. Faced with similar threats, Markham, Ostwick, and Wycome sent armies. Kirkwall sent the Champion." She shook her head. "Let us not forget that the Champion was an Amell. It could just be as simple as she did not wish to suffer the losses she would no doubt incur if she did attempt to take him in against his will."


	32. Faith

When Hawke returned home he found Merrill staring out of the window, her room was quite bare hardly anything within it. He kept on trying to convince her to move all of her stuff inside his estate, but she stubbornly refused.

She and Anders hadn't been forced into the Circle, because of their friendship to him. However, he knew that their friendship to Hawke could only go so far with Meredith. As such, he had to convince them to help them hunt down blood mages just so the templars would get off their backs.

"Hightown is such a strange place," said Merrill not noticing him entering. "It feels it's miles away from everywhere else. The alienage, Sundermount, Ferelden… those could be from a dream."

She sighed as she turned to Hawke and looked up in surprise. "Oh, _ma vhenan_ , I didn't see you there. I'm going to visit the alienage. You want anything from Lowtown?"

"I always miss Lowtown. I haven't had my pocket picked in ages," Hawke joked.

"Such a lovely gesture, sticking your hand to someone else's pocket," Merrill joked. She had finally captured the art of sarcasm. "The Dalish are never that familiar."

She then began to walk off and noticed Hawk's concerned look. "I'm… stopping by my house were bit, that's all. I left some things undone there. I'll be back later."

Hawke sighed. "You go to the alienage almost every day."

Merrill looked back at him. "There's nothing wrong with that. I am an elf, in case you've forgotten."

"If you just move in all your stuff, you wouldn't have to keep going there."

"It's better if…" She stopped, "something is stay far away from this house. Back before dark, I promise."

He watched as she left and shook his head.

* * *

He later went down to the barracks to greet Aveline back from her honeymoon and found her office completely full of guardsmen.

"Guardsman!" she yelled. "Duties for the week will be…"

"Lowtown canvass. Five on, three off," said Brennan.

"City perimeter by twos, play by second watch," said Donnic.

"Training recruits. Full metal by week's end," said another guardsmen.

"Anything else, Captain?" Donnic asked.

Aveline shook her head. "No. Thank you."

The guards then left her office and she leaned on her desk and looked a Hawke. "Donnic is… a good man." She then looked at Hawke. "I'm sorry, was there anything you wanted?"

"Just checking in. Need anything?" Hawke asked.

"Yes, there's something. Come back soon. I'll get into it then."

"You never said how you three weeks in Orlais went," said Hawke curiously.

"You're right. I didn't," Aveline smirked secretly. "Anything else?"

That answer went under the heading of too much information and he decided to choose another subject. "Your man could give the templars a run for their sovereigns," Hawke noted.

"They've had to. As long as there's no viscount, the Order things they can bark at any man in uniform. I won't have it. The people of Kirkwall need to see themselves in their guard. Lose the connection, we're is targets."

"Kirkwall seems to have rallied around you," Hawke smiled.

"I try to keep order, and people appreciate that. Everything else is going insane. A few complaints here and there, but for the most part, I think everyone's just grab the guard has been stable for a few years."

"I'll see you later," said Hawke.

Aveline smiled. "Of course, Hawke."

* * *

He went over to the Chantry, hoping he can convince Elthina to pick a side between the mages or Templars. He had brought Varric along with him, but when they reached the altar they found that Sebastian was already trying to do just that.

"Do you never intend to give a public answer, Your Grace?" Sebastian was worrying over Elthina again.

"What have I been asked?"

"About the mages. You could calm this fire if you stepped forward."

"The Chantry's teachings are clear. Those who turn against them would not listen more to me than to Andraste."

They might, actually. Elthina could send Meredith to her room like a spoiled child. Sebastian was right, she could calm the fire. Then again, she could have calmed the issue with the Qunari as well. Peace was all well and good, but sometimes action was needed. Or at least strong words.

"Then you do support the templars, Your Grace?" Hawke questioned.

"I favour peace, which is not the goal of either side, I'm afraid," Elthina said sadly. She sighed. "I did not expect things to deteriorate so fast. I thought after the Qunari, no one would wish for more violence. It has drawn more attention than I would like. Sebastian, if I can ask—"

"Anything, Your Grace."

"And the Champion, too, if you will…?"

If she was actually going to do something, he was right there for her. "I am your humble servant."

"You honour me. The Divine is concerned about the situation here. She does not want to see the Free Marches become another Imperium. She has sent an agent to…" Elthina considered her words. "Assess the danger. Meet with her, please. Tell her drastic measures won't be required."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing, for once he wished that someone he had to meet understood the words 'compromise' or 'middle ground'? "I don't want to see the Divine's armies march against Kirkwall."

"Could we keep the Exalted Marching to a minimum?" Varric asked. "I keep all my stuff in Kirkwall."

Sebastian was staring. "Surely the Divine wouldn't treat the whole city as enemies"

"She is concerned." Elthina shook her head. "It is never wise to draw the concern of the powerful."

"She is the voice of Andraste. She cannot turn the might of the Chantry against the innocent due to…" Sebastian shrugged helplessly. "Proximity."

"Were no innocents harmed in the Exalted Marches? She will do her best, Sebastian, but she must act first to protect the faith."

Hawke shifted his weight. "What can you tell me about this servant of the Divine?"

"I was not told her real name, only to call her Sister Nightingale. She is said to be the Divine's left hand, sent to do work that might blacken the Divine's name."

"What argument would convince her?"

"The Divine has heard my protests already. I must trust your own powers of persuasion now.""

Hawke nodded. "This cannot wait."

"Thank you. We cannot allow this…" Sebastian spread his hands. "Ridiculous mage rebellion to turn into holy war."

"The agent, Sister Nightingale, will be waiting in the viscount's throne room tonight. She wishes to remain…" Elthina sighed. "Unseen. The room has been sealed since the Qunari incident. It may be difficult to get in without attracting attention."

* * *

He went to the keep and brought Anders and Fenris along with them. However, the moment they entered the viscount's throne room they were met by a group of people.

"So, even the Divine fears is now," said the woman leading them. "She should. Kill the spies!"

Hawke began to wonder if there was anyone that wouldn't attack him the first they laid eyes on him. They were clearly mages and blood mages as they had even resorted into summoning demons. It was quite fortunate that the Knight-Commander was not here or she would have clamped down the Circle.

Hawke was about to turn around to deal with the newcomers when both enemy mages fell. A red haired woman stood behind them. She nodded, and then sheathed her blades. "The Resolutionists. I might have known they would be part of this."

Hawke knew instantly that he was looking directly at the agent Divine had sent. "Are you Sister Nightingale?"

"I am. Or you may call me Leliana. The Divine sent me to investigate the possibility of a rebellion here in Kirkwall. I have…" She shrugged. "Some experience in unconventional situations."

Hawke stared at her. "The Leliana? Who accompanied the Wardens to slay the archdemon?" Now he wished he'd brought Merrill along. She'd have a million questions for the woman who'd fought by her friend side.

Leliana smiled. "Ah, I see it will be harder to remain anonymous so near the Ferelden border. Yes, I knew the Wardens. Perhaps you have heard the songs I wrote of our time together. But that…" Her headshake was affectionate. "Was many years ago. I am working for the Divine now. In Orlais. I had not thought to return to this part of Thedas."

"Who are the Resolutionists?"

"An offshoot of a fraternity within the Circle of Magi," she replied.

"Supported by the magisters," Fenris added.

"There's no proof of that," Leliana said, but gave Fenris a nod.

Fenris nudged one of the dead mages with his foot. "I bet a lot of mages think they'd enjoy Tevinter's freedoms—and completely forget that few ever achieve the power to enjoy them."

"There have always been factions that support freedom from the Chantry and the abolition of the Circle. We have…" Leliana gestured. "Tolerated them. But the Resolutionists have become violent. They are likely behind the unrest here. The Divine has long suspected that Kirkwall's problems were spurred by an outside group."

"Like any mage with a brain can't come up with 'let's rebel'?" Anders asked. Hawke narrowed his eyes slightly as he saw Leliana give the healer an odd look.

Varric snorted. "To be fair, Blondie, a lot of those 'rebellions' boil down to, 'Let's feed ourselves to demons!' Outside help of the planning variety might be required."

Leliana gestured. "This attack proves she is right."

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying you set this whole thing up?"

"I let word slip that an agent of the Divine was coming to investigate the mage troubles. It is how they chose to react which condemns them."

"Please don't do anything dire," Hawke begged. "We still have a chance for peace."

Leliana gave him a sympathetic look. "Divine Justinia takes the situation here very seriously. She believes it is the worst threat to Thedas since the Qunari invaded."

"A handful of apostates? How can that possibly—?" Sebastian shook his head.

"The whole world is watching Kirkwall. If it falls to magic, none of us are safe."

"None of you," Anders muttered.

"Tell Elthina to leave. There is refuge for her at the Grand Cathedral in Orlais. She will not be safe here." Leliana turned to go.

* * *

They return to the Chantry and went up to Elthina.

"Sister Nightingale says you must leave Kirkwall," said Hawke.

Elthina looked at Hawke in surprise. "What?"

"You were right." Sebastian looked at her worriedly. "The Divine will be taking action against Kirkwall, though the sister didn't say what. You must take the holy relics from the Chantry and leave for safety."

"Sebastian. I'm surprised at you. Andraste would not thank me for saving a few dusty finger bones and my own skin at the cost of people's lives."

"Are you saying you won't flee?" Hawke asked.

"When I became grand cleric, I took a vow to the people of Kirkwall and the Free Marches. I will not leave my flock."

"Would you let yourself die?" Sebastian spread his hands.

"'There is no greater devotion than to lay one's life at the Maker's feet. There is no better death than to take the blow for another.'"

Hawke sighed. "Sister Nightingale took a great risk to warn you. Don't be rash."

"Please, your grace. Sister Nightingale thinks there will be war."

"Then I must make peace. Settle yourself, Sebastian. I'm in no personal danger. I am grand cleric—who would dare attack me?"

"If you will not shield yourself, then I will be your shield." Sebastian squared his shoulders. "You will come through this safely, by the Maker's name. I swear it."

* * *

"If Elthina won't leave Kirkwall, neither will I. I can't abandon her when the Divine's own agent warned her away."

Hawke nodded. "The grand cleric is lucky to have your loyalty."

"She'd be lucky were I willing to hit her over the head and carry her away. This isn't her battle. But if these maleficarum rebel against the knight-commander, Elthina will put herself between them and be torn apart. I must try to make her see reason. This cannot end well."

"I agree, it almost feels as if the Qunari are still here."

Sebastian nodded. "Yes, we know what happens when you don't pick a side."

* * *

"And here you enter the story," Cassandra sighed.

"Yes, Theron was not with me because he had Warden business, but he would not tell me of what kind."

"Do you think this business of his connects to the Champion?" Cassandra asked.

"I do not know," Lellianna admitted. "If this business is connected Varric will eventually tell us. I'm more concerned that Elthina did nothing to calm the fires and did not heed my warning."

"Indeed, it was unwise of her to remain neutral for such a long period of time, but let us see what the dwarf tells us next."


	33. No Rest for the Wicked

Hawke went to meet Isabela, who was busy drowning herself at the Hanged Man. Sometimes Hawke wondered how she remained so back to so much drink.

"How you been?" he asked.

"You don't have to keep checking on me. I'm fine," Isabela assured.

Hawke sighed, ever since the Qunari incident, Isabela had spent most of the time in the Hanged Man. It was clear that she was still kicking herself about the Tome that she gave the Qunari.

"Why do you keep coming here? You're better than this."

"I'm comfortable here, all right?" she snapped. She sighed. "Remember what you said after the mess with the Qunari?"

"I'm proud of you for doing the right thing," said Hawke sincerely.

"It may have been the right thing, but it was also the dumb thing. The relic was mine. I should've kept running."

"I couldn't have saved Kirkwall without you."

"Bullshit. You could've stormed the Keep and slaughtered all those Qunari if you had to," said Isabela smiling. "You and Aveline. I mean, look at her—she's a woman-shaped battering ram."

Hawke wasn't sure how Aveline would react to that reference and decided against telling Aveline what she had just said.

Isabela then gone up from a chair and walked over to him. "The fact is… you and I have nothing in common anymore. You're a Champion, and I'm just lying, thieving snake."

Hawke placed a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever you think you are, I still care about you. It must have been very hard to give up the relic, and I appreciate it. Whatever comes, you have my support."

"Well, perhaps it's time to stop hiding, and I did miss the trouble we used to get into," Isabela admitted. "Tell you what. I'll be here if you need me."

Then Hawke watched as she continued to finish her drink and shook his head and walked out.

* * *

It was later night and Hawke and Merrill were sleeping in his bed peacefully. They had just had another blissful night and warming their naked bodies under the sheet.

Then all of a sudden the two of them woke up when something bounced on the bed. They looked up and Merrill quickly covered herself with the sheets, for sitting at the foot of the bed was Isabela smiling at them.

"Don't you to look adorable together," she said.

"I really need to change these locks," Hawke muttered.

"I knocked this time. Bodahn let me in." She smiled at them as they regained their composure.

"He didn't let you into my bedroom."

"But that door wasn't locked." Isabela grinned.

"And why didn't you knock?" Merrill asked completely pink in the face.

"And ruin the fun?" Isabela smirked.

"Can we get dressed?" Hawke asked.

"What's stopping you?"

"Isabela!" Merrill moaned.

* * *

"Guess what?" Isabela said when they emerged from the bedroom. "Castillon's in town, and I'm not waiting for him to stick a knife in my vitals. We're going to get him before he gets me."

"We're going to surprise Castillon? I love surprises." Hawke considered a moment. "As long as they aren't lust addled pirates."

Isabela laughed, and then continued. "Unfortunately, Castillon's holed up somewhere in Kirkwall. I haven't been able to find him. I do know where Velasco is, however. That's his right hand. We just have to make him tell us where Castillon is. Somehow."

"What a plan." He put a hand over his heart. "Your scheming ability puts me to shame."

"Well, I haven't worked out all the kinks." She ticked off on her fingers. "Step one, we go to Velasco. Step two, something exciting happens. Step three, profit. Well, do you have a better idea?"

"If we kill him and search his body, we might find something."

"Or we could find nothing, and get nowhere."

"We could hit him till he talks?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You'll just end up killing him."

"Couldn't we just ask Velasco where Castillon is? Nicely?"

"He's not going to reveal anything willingly. I can't risk him getting suspicious and alerting Castillon." Her glare promised more early morning rude awakenings if he didn't stop messing with her.

"Castillon wants you." He shrugged. "Why not let Velasco bring you to him?"

"And…" She started to nod. "You follow me. Oooh, that's clever. I was going to suggest challenging Velasco to a riddle game, and making 'where's your boss?' one of the riddles. This is so much better."

He facepalmed. "I'm ready whenever you are."

"Velasco's been spending his nights at the brothel, enjoying its many splendors. That's where we'll find him."

* * *

Moments later, Hawke along with Aveline, Merrill and Varric joined Isabela at the Blooming Rose. They soon start at a door that led to one of the rooms on the first floor.

"That's his room," said Isabela.

"Are you ready?" Hawke asked.

"Yes, I think so," said Isabela nervously. "Now, this needs to be convincing. And you'll need to get creative—call me names, even hit me. Stick with it, no matter what I do. Velaso's a clever son of a bitch. If you waver, he'll notice."

"I don't know if I can pull this off," Hawke admitted.

"Come on, how you ever wanted to slap me? Just a little?" Isabela asked.

"Absolutely," said Aveline.

"Yes," said Varric.

"Yes…" said Merrill. She then blinked blankly. "Wait, what are we voting on?"

"I wasn't asking you people," Isabela glared.

"Face it. You set yourself up for that one," said Varric.

Isabela shook her head. "Whatever you do, just make sure he takes me to Castillon. I'll leave a trail for you to follow. Let's go"

Hawke kicked the door wide open. They saw the man who we guessed was Velaso and an elven woman, who was enjoying his company. However, the moment they laid eyes on them the woman fled the room. Velasco glared. "I hope you have a good reason for interrupting my private time."

He jerked a thumb at Isabela. "I have a present for Castillon."

"Present for—what?" Isabela asked him, confused.

"You should see the look on your face." He shook his head at her.

"This wasn't the plan. We were going to kill him." She reached for her knives, and he touched his staff threateningly.

"Remember that time you ran off with the Tome of Koslun? This is like that, only funnier."

Isabela looked away from him and spat. "You backstabbing little shit. You'd better start sleeping with one eye open." Velasco's men began dragging Isabela away.

Velasco came over to him. "Castillon will be pleased. He's been looking for Isabela for some time." He handed over a coinpurse. "A token of our appreciation. It's more than she's worth."

Aveline came in after Velasco left. "Let's find Isabela's trail and get her back before something nasty happens."

"You're worried," Varric said.

"I am not."

* * *

The trail led them out of Hightown, through Lowtown, and to the Docks. Where had she gotten all those marbles, anyway? Aveline punched the sentry in the face almost casually as they entered the warehouse, dropping the man.

Inside, Velasco was… well, a generous man might call it flirting. "Why don't we work something out? If you're good, I'll tell Castillon to go easy on you."

Isabela snorted. "Contrary to popular belief, I do have standards."

"You're going to do whatever I want. I own you." Velasco took a step towards Isabela.

Isabela saw them, and smiled. "You sure about that?"

Velasco glared. "You! I knew the bitch was up to something. Kill them."

Isabela rolled out of harm's way, and Hawke called up a tempest, forcing Velasco and his mercenaries to choose between being struck by lightning or facing the blade of Aveline. Varric then fired several bolts from the Bianca and Merrill shot lightning.

"Velasco sent word to Castillon." Isabela was grinning broadly as she took her daggers back. "He's on his way." She glanced around the warehouse. "Let's look around first. I want to know why he's in Kirkwall."

The answer appeared to be nasty. Isabela glanced over the documents Hawke had found. "So Castillon's looking to expand his slaving business. Why am I not surprised?"

"These documents should go to the Guard," Aveline said. "We'll at least arrest his accomplices."

Castillon showed up only a few moments later. "And Velasco told me you were all tied up, a lovely present just waiting to be opened." He looked around at the corpses. "I see he's paid for that little mistake. What a pretty smear he makes. Well played, Isabela. Crossed and double-crossed."

"You want to talk? Maybe we should talk about these documents. Slavery in the Free Marches? They're not going to like that." Isabela's smile was cat-like.

"Get to the point." Castillon's eyes narrowed.

"Give me your ship, and your word to leave me alone, and you can take these papers and go." Isabela gestured.

Hawke just stared at her. "If you want the ship, can't we just kill him and take it?"

"You don't just kill a man and take his ship." Isabela looked scandalised. "That's crude and amateurish." She gestured. "How will he tell everyone how I bested him if he's dead."

"Can you trust him? He trades people for money."

"Castillon's a businessman, and this is a business deal. He'll keep his end of the bargain."

"What happened to getting rid of Castillon?" Hawke asked raising an eyebrow.

"I am getting rid of him. Through peaceful means."

"Coming from her, that's priceless," said Castillon.

"I saw the ship docked in the harbour, Castillon," said Isabela. "She is splendid. I want her."

Castillon turned to Isabela. "Give me the documents, and you can have the ship. And you will never hear from me again."

"Swear it."

"I swear it on my mother's grave. Give me the documents."

Hawke knew without the documents, Aveline wouldn't be able to arrest Castillon and his accomplices. Which meant there was only one thing to do here, really. "Castillon dies here today, if I have anything to say about it."

Castillon actually chuckled. "Enough with the blackmail then. Let's settle this like civilised people."

"Wait…" Isabela started to say.

Castillon almost got his daggers, but Hawke called up a tempest at the back ranks, Merrill focused on the archers, Varric and Aveline went for the rest. After the battle Isabela was furious.

She paced back and forth. "Ugh. Now what am I supposed to do with these useless documents?"

"I hate to state the obvious but…" Aveline held out a hand. "I could use them."

"Fine. Take the blasted things. Go…" Isabela practically threw the documents at Aveline. "Dispense justice or whatever." She turned to glare at Hawke. "After all we've been through, together, how could you do that to me?"

Hawke crossed his arms. "Think about it. You know he didn't deserve to walk."

Isabela sighed. "No, he didn't." She glared. "I really hate it when you're right."

* * *

Apparently, an Antivan lord wanted to meet him outside the Blooming Rose. He was fairly sure at least one of Varric's books had started out in just such a manner. Oddly enough, there actually was an Antivan lord outside the Blooming Rose.

"Ah, the Champion of Kirkwall. Your reputation precedes you. Forgive me. I should introduce myself properly. My name is Nuncio Caldera Lanos, I am a noble from the beautiful country of Antiva."

Hawke returned the bow. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I've come to you in search of aid. An elven assassin I have been chasing is loose in the area. Unfortunately, he's hidden himself among the local Dalish, no doubt playing on their shared heritage. He's a master manipulator who will endanger even his own kind to ensure his survival."

"You don't seem the type to hunt assassins," said Hawke curiously. "Why are you after him?"

"At first it was merely duty to Antiva, but after losing so many good men to him, it became personal." Nuncio folded his arms. "He's nothing but a murderer, a thief, and a liar."

"Your assassin is no fool," Hawke nodded. "I doubt the Dalish would hand a fellow elf over to you, murderer or no."

"Ah, so you see my problem. Where that elf goes death follows. He must be captured quickly. I was hoping you could go where my men could not. Fine out where the assassin is hiding, and apprehend him."

"I'll see what I can do," said Hawke, but he had a feeling that something was off.

"One of the Dalish, a woman named Variel, is a friend of his. I suggest speaking with her first. We won't be here when you get back. We got a campsite outside the city. Look for us there."

* * *

Anders and Fenris weren't difficult to find. And she wasn't particularly protective of her information. "This criminal of yours is set up in a cave away from our camp. He said there would be people looking for him, and to tell anyone who asked where he was."

Hawke frowned. "Why would he give away his position?"

"He said he didn't want to endanger our people by asking us to lie for him." She gave him a pointed look. "Not something you'd expect from a cruel and evil murderer, is it?" She gestured. "He'll be waiting for you at the cave. Good luck trying to reach him, however."

* * *

They did have to kill a fair number of things before getting into the cave. Isabela made herself useful by disarming some traps. The 'dangerous assassin' smiled when he saw them. "Now you I wasn't expecting."

Isabela laughed. "I thought I smelled Antivan leather."

"Isabela. If it isn't my favourite pirate wench."

"Shouldn't you be dead by now?" She folded her arms.

"I could say the same, my dear. It seems we were both fortunate to find powerful friends, no?" He bowed. "How do you do? My name is Zevran Arainai, adventurer and occasional assassin."

"I've heard of you," said Anders. "You helped the Wardens to stop the Blight."

"At your service, my friend!"

Hawke thought he had the name before, he was the elves that tried to assassinate the Wardens within that book written by the Hero of Ferelden himself.

Zevran shrugged. "I must admit, I was waiting for an assault by the Crows, not the mighty Champion of Kirkwall."

"How do you know I'm the Champion?" Gabriel asked.

"Slayer of Qunari, Deep Roads explorer, and may I say one fine specimen of manhood? You underestimate your fame." Zevran's smile was flirtatious.

Hawke glanced at Isabela. "How do you two know each other?"

Zevran laughed. "How does anyone know Isabela?"

She glared. "Yes, well, you'll never know Isabela again if you keep that up." She turned towards Hawke. "I thought you were sharing your bed with that pretty little elf Kallian, isn't she a noble now?"

"Indeed, but events drove us apart," said Zevran in the disappointed voice. "However, she did say that I would be welcomed back in her bed if I ever come back to Ferelden."

Hawke glanced at Zevran. "When you say Crows, I'll assume you're not talking about birds."

"Oh, please do not tell me you know nothing of the Antivan Crows." Zevran gestured in disbelief. "We are the finest guild of assassins, an object of fear throughout the lands for any man with wealthy enemies. Or, I should say, they are. I am no longer a Crow, a fact they find unacceptable."

"There must be more to it than you leaving the guild."

"That is offense enough to the Crows, believe me." Zevran chuckled. "I may have also killed the last four assassins they sent after me. And all their men. Oh. And the Guildmaster. In fact, if you were a Crow you might make a fortune bringing me in. You should consider a career change." Zevran laughed. "No. Really."

"I've been hired to find and capture you," said Hawke crossing his arms.

"Ah, let me guess: a man named Nuncio has asked you to capture a dangerous killer, yes?" Zevran paced, gesturing. "What did he say this time? That I killed his wife? Butchered his parents? Sold his children into slavery? Or did he tell you he was a lawman from Antiva, charged with apprehending a ridiculously handsome fugitive?"

"He also said you were a wanted murderer."

Zevran nodded. "Oh, indeed I am. But technically I imagine everyone here can rightfully claim that title. Bring me to Nuncio if you wish, but I warn you: he surely intends to kill you. The Crows do not like loose ends, unlike myself." Zevran gave him an appreciative look. "But you are a man who can clearly handle himself, yes? Why worry?" He gestured enthusiastically. "So you can either tie me up, gag me, and then manhandle me… or you can take me to Nuncio. Which will it be, I wonder?"

Hawke and glanced at Isabela. "You know him best. What do you think?"

"I've had better." Zevran actually looked affronted at Isabela's words.

Hawke ran a hand down his face. "I meant about letting him go or not."

"Oh. Right." She shrugged. "I'd let him go."

"I'm not going to hand you over to someone who lied to me," Hawke told Zevran. Plus, he didn't fancy to have his lover tracking him down and killing him, from what he heard she was quite the killer.

"As a suggestion, you might wish to deal with Nuncio." Zevran shrugged casually. "If you don't, he will only come after you." He bowed. "It's been more than a pleasure, my dear Champion. Fare you well."

* * *

Hawke walked into Nuncio's camp. "You didn't tell me the assassin you want it captured was one of your own."

Nuncio looked disappointed. "Ah, so Zevran told you, did he? It really doesn't matter. This time his precious Warden isn't here to protect him." The man reached for his knives. "I am thoroughly disappointed. No one fails the Crows and lives."

"Ah, poor, stupid Nuncio." Zevran emerged from some trees. "The Crows do like that saying, but I am living proof it's a lie." He shrugged at Gabriel. "Why they insist on thinking they can kill people like you and the Wardens, I will never guess."

"Why didn't you go when you had the chance?" Hawke asked.

"To see the Champion of Kirkwall in action? You couldn't keep me away!"

Hawke felt strangely flattered by the compliment.

Nuncio glared at him. "You are nothing but a traitor and a coward, Zevran. You'll die here!"

Zevran drew a knife and threw it behind him, pegging the man trying to sneak up on him in the eye. "Yes, well. Let's see how that works out for you."

The fight was over quickly. Zevran, despite his behaviour, was actually a highly skilled combatant. He grinned when the last of the Crows was dispatched. "Excellent. Killing my former brothers-in-arms is oddly satisfying." He bowed. "I've little reward to offer you, Champion, but perhaps this will serve as a token of my thanks." He offered an amulet, and Hawke accepted. "My dear Isabela, it has been a delight to see you again. You travel in fine company."

"That's it?" Isabela shook her head. "You're leaving? What about sex?"

"Ah, Isabela." Zevran laid a hand over his heart. "I did so miss you."

"That's because you have piss-poor aim. Thankfully, you've other uses." The two of them began walking off back into the trees.

Anders shook his head laughing.

"Are we sure he was part of a guild of assassins?" Fenris asked.

It took him a few days, and he had to deal with Seneschal Bran. But in the end, the 'confiscated' ship was his. Now for the tricky part.

He also decided to make it up to Isabela by betting the ship on a game of Wicked Grace. The ship change so many hands it was hard to keep up, first it was Varric, then Fenris, then surprisingly Merrill, then Anders. However, the game concluded with Isabela's victory, much to her delight.

However, he was now going to make sure that the bedroom doors were now locked for now on.

* * *

"Zevran Arainai."

"It certainly sounds like him," Leliana acknowledged.

"Did you know about this?" Cassandra asked.

"Actually, yes." Leliana shrugged. "Part of it, anyway. Zevran is the one that told Theron his clan was near Kirkwall. He didn't mention meeting the Champion, however."

"And Isabela did get a ship." Cassandra folded her arms. "An avenue for escape."

"My information on Isabela puts her back with the Felicia Armada. Another excellent place for someone to hide."

"Clearly, we need to have a few more words with Kallian."

Leliana shook her head. "I doubt she knows anything, she's more preoccupied for helping elven refugees and the Dalish at Ostagar.


	34. Alone

"If you think that was bad, I should tell you about the Blackmarsh," said Anders.

"See, when you say things like that, Blondie, it just makes me glad I didn't know you sooner." Varric leaned back in his chair. "Who goes to a place named Blackmarsh on purpose? Now, if they called it Beermarsh…" He stopped. "No, still doesn't work."

"You've got a point. The marsh part does cancel out anything else." Anders gestured. "Flowermarsh? Kittenmarsh? Nope. No good." He straightened when Hawke entered, and gave the other mage a nod. "Ah, you've got company. I'll see you later."

"Hawke. What can I do for you?" Varric turned to face his friend.

"What was Anders here for?" Hawke asked, coming to sit across from him.

"Only place in Kirkwall he can get a decent drink. Blondie comes by here, and I put him on my tab. He's got some stories about his days in Ferelden that sound implausible even to me." Varric shrugged. "He's not bad for a mage. Crazy, but that's most everyone in this city."

"I'm not here on business. Just dropping by," said Hawke.

"Drinking his business, Champion. You know that."

Hawke laughed. "So what's the word in Lowtown, Varric?"

"Nothing you don't know already. The viscount's departure." The sheer number of nobles who seemed to think Hawke should take on the job. "A vacuum of power. Trouble's brewing." Varric sighed. "Get rid of one threat and another appears. I'm starting to think this city is in love with crisis. Hope you're ready for it, my friend. I'm keeping Bianca close."

"The mages and templars are nearly at the breaking point and the grand cleric refuses to do anything, even leaving the city," Hawke admitted.

Varric nodded. "I know a tragedy when I see one and like before you'll be in the centre of it."

"The eye of the storm, huh," said Hawke taking a drink from his tankard.

"People say the safest place to be in, but we know better," said Varric.

Hawke couldn't but agree.

* * *

He arrived at the mansion to find Aveline and Fenris having a rather heated conversation. "An elf matching your description, on the ship you named. And alone, as far as I could tell." Aveline, at least, was sitting calmly.

Fenris on the other hand, was pacing back and forth. "I need to know if it's a trap."

"I did as you asked, Fenris. Now it's up to you." She looked up and saw Hawke standing there. "You talk to him, Hawke." She rose, and started to leave. "I've had my fill for today."

" _Venhedis. Fasta vass._ " Fenris stopped pacing, and leaned on the table.

Hawke watched Aveline go, then turned back to Fenris. "Maybe I can help, Fenris."

He sighed. "It's my sister." He glanced up, but didn't quite meet Hawke's eyes. "I didn't tell you, but I followed up on Hadriana's information. Everything she said was true. I had to keep it quiet, but I eventually contacted Varania and sent her coin enough to come meet me." He slumped somewhat. "And now she's here."

"She was in Qarinus after all?" Hawke smiled. So far, this all was sounding like good news. No wonder Fenris was out of sorts.

"My sister left Magister Ahriman's service, and I found her in Minrathous. That made things more difficult. But according to the men I paid, it's just as Hadriana said: she's not a slave." Fenris looked down at his hands. "She's a tailor, in fact. Getting a letter to her was difficult, and she didn't believe me at first…" A variety of expressions came over his face. "But she's finally come."

"You're worried that Danarius knows," Hawke guessed.

"The more it seems he doesn't know, the more certain I become he does!" said Fenris furiously. "Come with me, Hawke. I need you there when I meet her."

"Where is she?" Hawke asked.

"If we go to the Hanged Man during the day, she'll be there. For the next week, at least. It would mean a lot to me. That's all I ask."

* * *

The red-haired elven woman at the table looked up as they approached. Her face remained expressionless. "It really is you." Hawke felt a chill as he looked around. There were remarkably few people in the tavern. He caught Isabela's eye, and she gave him a slight nod before flicking her eyes towards the stairs, not a good sign.

"Varania? I…" Fenris' voice softened. "I remember you. We played in our master's courtyard while Mother worked. You called me…"

"Leto." Varania said. "That's your name."

"What's wrong?" Fenris asked. "Why are you so…?"

Hawke grabbed his shoulder. "Fenris, we have to get out of here!"

The man who walked down the stairs also held a staff. His lined face wore a cruel, satisfied smile. "Ah, my little Fenris. Predictable as always."

Varania stood and moved away. "I'm sorry it came to this, Leto."

"You led him here." Anger and hurt warred in Fenris's voice.

"Now, now, Fenris." Danarius smirked. His tone was patient, sounding almost like someone speaking to a child. "Don't blame your sister. She did what any good Imperial citizen should."

"I never wanted these filth markings, Danarius. But I won't let you kill me to get them." And now Fenris was glowing.

Danarius laughed. "Oh, how little you know, my pet." The man's eyes turned towards Gabriel. "And this is your new master, then? The Champion of Kirkwall? Impressive."

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "Fenris doesn't belong to anyone."

"Do I detect a note of jealousy? It's not surprising. The lad is rather skilled, isn't he?" Hawke felt white-hot rage at Danarius's words.

"Shut your mouth, Danarius." Fenris went for his sword.

The magister sighed as he signaled his forces to attack. "The word is 'master'."

Mercenaries started to come down the stairs. Focused as they were on Fenris and Hawke, they never saw Varric and Isabela coming. Isabela brought both of her daggers down into the shoulders of a mage that was starting to cast. Danarius put up a barrier around himself, then started summoning demons.

Hawke put up a barrier of his own, and then alternated between aiding his friends and countering the spells Danarius tried to bring in to bear. He had a watch his magic so that he unleashed something a bit less destructive than fire and lightning. He blasted the Magister with ice

The expression on Danarius's face when he realised his men and demons were being slaughtered was almost comical. The magister tried to bring another spell in, and Hawke hit him with a blast of ice to the stomach. Fenris leaped over a table and was on the man before he could get back to his feet.

Fenris glowed as he picked up Danarius, his hand phased into the other man's head. "You are no longer my master." Danarius groaned, and there was a rather sickening squelching noise as Fenris dropped him. Slowly, the elf turned to where his sister was cowering in a corner.

"I had no choice, Leto." She held her hands in front of herself in a gesture that combined warding with surrendering.

Fenris was nearly snarling. "Stop calling me that."

"He was going to make me his apprentice. I would have been a magister." That… might not have been the wisest thing she could have said in her own defence.

"You sold out your own brother to become a magister?" Fenris started walking towards her.

She backed away. "You have no idea what we went through. What I've had to do since Mother died. This was my only chance."

"And now you've no chance at all."

"Please…" Varania begged. "Don't do this." Her eyes went to Hawke. "Please tell him to stop."

Hawke sighed. "Wait." There was a good chance that Fenris would regret taking her life, one day. Especially if he had good memories of her return. "Don't kill her."

"Why not?" Fenris glared at him. "She was ready to see me killed. What is she to me other than just one more tool of the magisters?"

"This is your family, Fenris." He met his friend's eyes, saw the other man understand just how much that word meant.

Varric approached. "Elf…" He shook his head. "Fenris. I know how hard this is to believe, but this is the last thing you want to do."

Fenris looked from one to the other. He didn't turn to look at his sister. "Get out."

She started to flee, and then stopped a couple feet from the door. "You said you didn't ask for this, but that's not true. You wanted it. You competed for it. When you won you used the boon to have Mother and I freed."

"Why are you telling me this?" Fenris' voice was pained.

"Freedom was no boon. I look on you now and I think you received the better end of the bargain." She went through the door.

Fenris looked around at the corpses piled on the floor. "I thought discovering my past would bring a sense of belonging, but I was wrong. Magic has tainted that, too. There is nothing for me to reclaim. I am alone."

"You have friends," said Hawke trying to comfort his friend.

"Yes. A mage is my only friend," said Fenris bitterly.

"Hey now, you could do worse," said Varric.

Fenris held up his hands and stared at the markings. "You heard what Varania said. I wanted these. I fought for them. I feel unclean, like this magic is not only etched into my skin, but has also stained me soul. Let's go." He took a deep breath. "I need to get out of here."

Hawke sighed as if Fenris hadn't suffered enough already.

* * *

Hawke went to check on Merrill, who was still looking at the _Eluvian_ and found Varric was there talking to her.

"Come on, Daisy. You should be stacking this rat-trap. Does Hawke even know you're here?" Varric asked.

Merrill didn't turn her head. "I don't have to ask permission to come to my own house, Varric."

"Just take a walk around the Lowtown market." Varric sighed. "Get some air, and I'll stop bothering you."

"I…" Merrill shook her head. "Know you mean well. But I have too much to do right now."

"I'll let you talk some sense into her, Hawke." Varric stalked away, shooting Merrill worried looks.

"Varric is…" Merrill sighed. "Very sweet. Frequently infuriating and a terrible busybody, but sweet. I… probably should have probably told Bodahn where I was going. I hope I didn't worry you?"

Hawke sighed. "Merrill, is there anything that doesn't make you nervous? Flowers and bunnies, maybe?"

"What about poison flowers? Or… or… dire bunnies?" Merrill asked nervously. She then turned and looked back at the Merrill.

"I'm sure something is wrong somewhere in Kirkwall, but right now it can wait." Hawke gave her a worried look of his own.

"And I'm being a poor host, as usual. In the market the other day, out of the corner of my eye…" She sat down, hunching her shoulders a little. "I thought I saw Theron. I blinked, and he was gone. I don't know what it meant. Maybe nothing. Maybe I'm going mad. I miss them all. Even the Keeper."

He put a hand on her shoulder. "You miss Keeper Marethari? Are you feverish? Did you take a blow to the head?"

"I must have. I even miss her scolding me. I wish I could have seen…" She stood up and shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I'm here now. Maybe Varric was right. Shall we go out for a bit? I could use some sunshine."

"You worry about Theron," Hawke noticed.

"The only trace I found was that book he wrote, and was surprised that he fell in love with a human," said Merrill and looked about Hawke. "There again I suppose it's quite easy to do. You know if fate was different there was a chance I would have married him or Tamlen, but the Creators had other plans for them."

"Personally, I think it was for the best," Hawke smiled as he placed an arm around Merrill and she laid her head on his shoulders.

* * *

They walked along the plaza in Hightown, where they met up with Anders and then a dark-haired woman stopped them. Hawke saw Anders' eyes widen in recognition. "Master Hawke, I must speak with you. You're the only one that can help. The Wardens mounted an expedition to retrace your route through the Deep Roads to discover whatever it is you found years ago. It's a fool's errand, and my poor brother is with them—Nathaniel Howe."

"Nathaniel?" Anders actually smiled. "Well, put me in a dress and call me a templar. How is the old boy doing?"

She glared at him. "He's missing, serah. Haven't you been listening?"

"I'm not worried about Nathaniel." Anders gestured. "He's crawled out of worse places alive."

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "I take it you and Nathaniel have some history."

"Certainly. We were in the Wardens together in Amaranthine. Hordes of darkspawn, psychotic broodmothers—usual Warden business." Anders tilted his head to one side thoughtfully. "I wonder if Nathaniel ever found a sense of humour?"

He turned back to the woman. "Why were Wardens interested in our expedition?"

"Maker help me, I have no idea." She shook her head in frustration. "My brother never tells me these things."

"Wardens range into the Deep Roads all the time." He tried to reassure her.

"But he's been gone far too long. Something terrible has happened. It'd tell the Wardens, but by the time I reach Vigil's Keep…" She shook her head. "My poor brother."

"Do you know any other details?"

"I know almost nothing. Nathaniel never speaks about the Wardens. It was only happenstance that I heard your name mentioned. Please, go back to the Deep Roads. Find my brother. You must."

Before he could say anything, Anders was assuring the woman, who he called Delilah, that they would do everything they could to find Nathaniel. Hawke left Anders to speak to the woman while he went and rounded up a few others.

He couldn't bring Aveline along because it was not a good time for her to be away from Kirkwall for any length of time. Sebastian, however, volunteered eagerly. Varric responded to the suggestion of a Deep Roads excursion by explaining to Hawke that he was not, in fact, at home, and that Hawke only thought he was talking to Varric. Merrill was also eager to join them and taking her away from the mirror was the best thing for her really.

* * *

From the looks of things, Nathaniel had already more or less rescued himself. The archer made Sebastian look like an amateur with a bow. It took Hawke a moment to realise that he had seen the man before, back during the Qunari attack. "Nathaniel Howe?"

Nathaniel nodded. "You're the Champion of Kirkwall, aren't you? And…" He blinked. "Anders?"

Anders gave a friendly smile. "Making friends as always, I see."

A variety of expressions crossed Nathaniel's face before he settled on friendly. "There's no escaping you, it seems."

"I'm special that way." Anders gestured.

"That is one way to put it." Nathaniel began retrieving his arrows.

"Delilah says you followed my expedition's route. Why?"

"You went further into the Deep Roads than anyone believed possible. The First Warden himself ordered this investigation. I was offered a generous share of the salvage, plus extra coin up front to discourage any…" He shrugged. "Curiosity."

Hawke looked around at all the dead darkspawn. "It looks like you met heavy resistance."

"After the Warden-Commander killed the Architect, we thought it would be decades before the Deep Roads would be infested again. We were told these tunnels would still be mostly clear. But it seems they were wrong." Nathaniel tossed a broken arrow aside, and put the rest back into his quiver.

"They seem to know a great deal about darkspawn. Are these allies dwarves?"

"No, not dwarves. It was the Constable, he has a great range when it comes to tracking down darkspawn."

"Who is the Architect?" Hawke asked curiously.

"The Architect was the first the speaking and thinking darkspawn. Very dangerous. He spread his 'gift' to other darkspawn—the disciples. Fortunately, the numbers a few and Constable Mahariel has been working tirelessly to eliminate them."

Hawke frowned. "I don't remember drawing anyone a map to the thaig. Who told you about it?"

"An unfortunate dwarf named Bartrand," said Nathaniel. "We weren't sure his information was reliable, but contacting you or Varric was deemed risky."

"You trust my turncoat brother before talking to us was risky?" Varric asked shaking his head. "That idiotic!"

"We feared you might return if you learned a lot interest in the thaig."

"As much as I enjoy the company, is there anything keeping us in these darkspawn-infested tunnels?"

Nathaniel shook his head. "I cannot leave now. When we were attacked, I was separated from the rest of my expedition. Some of them may yet live. We must go deeper into the tunnels to rescue them."

"Who else could be alive?"

"Some Wardens, including the Constable, survived the initial ambush. I think the dwarf we bought from Vigil's Keep survived…" Nathaniel sighed. "But who still lives? Only the Maker knows."

"Wait, are you saying the Hero of Ferelden is here?" Hawke stared and Merrill looked up.

"It was he who petitioned the First Warden to investigate this thaig," said Nathaniel.

"We have survivors to find. Let's go."

"Crawling through blight-infested tunnels, rescuing Wardens in peril." Sebastian actually sounded cheerful. "This is what I signed on for."

"We should move. Stay alert for darkspawn." Nathaniel led them in.

* * *

They found a dwarf carefully placing a barrel of something along the pathway. He turned towards them. "Master Howe, you live."

"Temmerin. Good man. Are there any other survivors?"

He nodded. "Up ahead." Temmerin gave a slight bow. "Well met are strangers in the belly of the earth." He gestured at the barrels. "I hope Sir Fenley won't mind, but I set up the explosives here and there. Figured I'd blow up as many of the 'spawn as I could before I embraced the stone."

Hawke blinked. "How did you manage to get Qunari explosives?"

Temmerin actually looked insulted. "These aren't Qunari explosives. They're dwarven made. And don't you forget it."

Nathaniel gestured. "Temmerin's cousin Dworkin made the explosives back in Vigil's Keep."

"Aye, and that he did…" Temmerin finished with what he was doing, and then stepped back. "Before the sodding Qunari forced him into hiding."

"What were you doing with these explosives?" There looked to be four barrels along the wall.

"We were prepared to do extensive excavations around the thaig you found."

"A few well placed 'booms' prove most efficacious at clearing rubble." Temmerin actually looked a bit gleeful at the thought.

"These explosives could kill a great many darkspawn."

"Temmerin, the way behind us is clear. Send word to the Wardens in case we don't make it."

"Aye." The dwarf gestured. "I've set explosives all along the tunnels. Blow up as many of the sodding 'spawn as you can. Luck to you all."

* * *

Hawke had seen a lot over the past few years. Dragons. Demons. And yet nothing really had prepared him for the sight of the Hero of Ferelden landing on the back of an ogre and slicing its head right off. He then noticed his brother plunging his sword into another ogre.

"Carver?"

"Well, just like old times. Still coming to the rescue after all these years?" Carver wiped the blade clean. "I have it under control, but thanks."

"You know each other?" Nathaniel stared.

"He is my brother," said Carver.

"It's good to see you. I hope the years have been kind," said Hawke.

"I can't say that. The Blight is long over, but the threat never really goes away." Carver didn't look him in the eye. "I don't know you can understand that. Maybe someday."

"So you're Garrett Hawke," said Theron as he lowered his hood. He then saw Merrill, who looked at him speechless. "Merrill?"

"Theron, it's wonderful to see you," she said and instantly wrapped her arms around him.

"It's good to see you to, Merrill," said Theron returning the hug.

"I've read your book, is Tamlen truly—?"

Theron nodded grimly. "Yes, he is."

"Why you down here at all?" Hawke asked.

"After Amaranthine, I began to research the awakened darkspawn," Theron explained. "They are dangerous when their mindless beasts, can you imagine the carnage if they were able to think for themselves."

"Yes, we met Janeka," said Hawke.

"And I must apologise for that, I told her to leave that prison well enough alone, but she disobeyed me." Theron looked as if the memory was very unpleasant. "She kept on persuading me, saying that she could bind Corypheus, but he wasn't a common demon and I deemed it too risky. Anyway, I heard rumours of this idle you found and I found the symptoms on Bartrand very interesting."

"You found my brother interesting?" Varric stared.

"I found the symptoms he was suffering from interesting and I decided to come here to the source, but I did not expect to find such heavy resistance," Theron admitted.

"Janeka mentioned that you organise a special group to deal with these darkspawn," said Hawke.

"Indeed, I could not deal this threat alone so I found others who agree as I did," Theron nodded. "After what happened with Corypheus I recruited your brother and you've already met Stroud."

"Haven't changed at all have you," said Anders crossing his arms.

"And I see you haven't," said Theron narrowing his eyes. "I should take you in right now for your crimes."

"It was pure self-defence," Anders said indignantly.

"What's this about?" Hawke asked.

"Surprised he didn't tell you," said Theron. "You see the Commander had a little incident with the templars about Anders and the only way to get them off his back was to recruit a templar into the order. However, at the time Anders had bonded with the spirit of justice and naturally the templar tried to kill him."

"Are you saying defending myself was unjustly?" Anders glared.

"No, I'm saying you bonding with the spirit was most unwise." Theron looked as if he was about to say something, but looked up. "We don't have time for this. The darkspawn approach."

The Wardens moved through the darkspawn easily. He watched as Theron cut a path through the darkspawn with ease, he had never seen one fight like him before. It was almost as if he was trying to make the darkspawn fight the way he wanted to.

After they'd downed an ogre, he saw Theron half close his eyes and turn in a slow circle. After a moment, the archer nodded. "For the first time since I've been down here, I don't sense a single darkspawn. We've won."

Nathaniel approached Hawke. "The route to the surface should be safe now. Because of you, I will see my sister and nephew again." He offered Hawke an amulet. "Please, take this with my blessing.

"I apologise I couldn't answer all your questions," said Theron. "You may have them yet, in the fullness of time." He then looked at Anders. "Champion, allow me to give you this bit of advice. You should watch Anders prevent him from doing something foolish."

"What you mean?" Hawke asked.

"I have a feeling that he will start a chain of events that will bring devastation to us all," said Theron.

With that they headed back to the surface and once they reached outside they went their separate ways, but he can help but wonder what Theron had meant about Anders.

* * *

"So, they killed a magister that wish to reclaim his slave," said Cassandra discussed. "I'm surprised the Knight-Commander did not know of this."

"Danarius would hardly let his presence known if he wanted to come in secret," said Leliana.

"I am more interested with his meeting with Theron, what was he looking for within the thaig."

"I don't know, he didn't speak much of his Warden business."

"Whatever they were doing it is clearly they had no part in the Chantry's destruction."

"Then let us hear what Varric has to say next."


	35. Mark of the Assassin

Varric went through a few other bits of story. The Champion apparently went back to the bone pit and killed a high dragon. Under other circumstances, it might have been a thrilling tale.

"You've been wasting my time, Varric. It stops now."

"Seeker, you wound me."

"The Champion nearly starts a war and you're all too happy to bury it beneath your words. You will tell me about the Qunari."

"What's left to say? The Arishok was killed and a Champion crowned."

"And yet we had Orlesians threatening sanctions of every kind and measure." The Seeker glared. "What happened at Chateau Haine? What happened with Tallis?"

Varric blinked. "You've heard about her?"

"We had someone there, but they lacked your access. Whatever Tallis was to the Champion, it seems like it angered a nation."

"Thousands of lives were at stake, Seeker."

"Perhaps one still is."

"Nicely nonspecific. All right, let me set the scene: an ambush, an invitation, a hunting party." Varric leaned forward. "All because of Tallis."

* * *

"And of course there's no one."

Varric shrugged. "All I know is it had something to do with you and nobles. Edge is usually very reliable."

"That's what you get the listening to someone called Edge," said Isabela.

"Feels like an ambush," Hawke agreed.

"Why?" Varric turned to look at her. "It's not always an ambush." Around them, armed men started emerging. Varric sighed. "All right, maybe sometimes it's an ambush."

The leader of the armed men smiled. "And there is the Champion of Kirkwall. You die today."

Hawke was about to reach for his staff when a dagger stuck the man in the shoulder. An elven woman leaped down from the roof and stabbed her dagger into an archer, making him to releases arrow at one of the assassins.

A second archer took aim and fired an arrow at her, but she used the archer's body as a shield and tossed a knife which impaled in the arches throat. An assassin tried to run her through with a sword, but she blocked it with her dagger and sliced his throat and rolled off the balcony just as an assassin slammed his maul at her.

She landed on the ground stabbed four more assassins, ran past them and drew her dagger at the leaders throat. "Kill her. Kill all of them!" the leader shouted a moment before the elven woman slit his throat.

She winked at Hawke. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Hawke had completely forgotten that they were still surrounded by assassins. He called down fire on the archers as Fenris drew his sword and Isabel began stabbing with her daggers. "Who the blazes is that?" He called over to Varric.

"Don't know." Varric yelled back. "Kill people, then ask."

"Good plan!" The elven woman yelled.

* * *

"Sloppy," she said, kicking one of the bodies over. "You'd think the Crows would be better at this. They've been doing it for ages."

Revenge for the ones he'd killed with Zevran most likely. "I appreciate your help."

She grinned. "I doubt you needed it, but you're quite welcome. My name is Tallis, and I've been looking for you."

Hawke frowned. "Looking for me?"

"Looking for the man who has an invitation to Chateau Haine, to be specific."

Varric rubbed a hand across his forehead. "That's what Edge was on about." He glanced up at Hawke. "You remember. Duke Prosper, the one who fawned all over you at the Champion of Kirkwall banquet. He talked about a hunt."

He remembered. Vaguely. "I doubt I'd go to such a thing."

"I was hoping you'd reconsider." Tallis gestured. "The duke is a delightful host—or so I hear."

"Let me guess: this isn't just a social call?" he said as if he was suffering from a headaches.

She paced. "I need to relieve him of something he has no right to possess, and I can't do it alone."

"You want to rob him?" Hawke blinked.

"Stealing from Orlesians is never wrong," Varric said. "Or so I've been told."

"This isn't how I was planning to ask you this. I was pictured an introduction with…" She looked around. "Less blood."

"I suppose there's no harm in hearing you out," said Hawke, but he had a feeling he was going to regret this.

"Looks like they were right about you."

"By 'they 'I assume you mean me," said Varric.

"Evidently." Tallis smiled.

"So tell me: what exactly is it that you want to stay?" Hawke asked crossing his arms.

"A jewel." Her answer was a bit hesitant. "The duke thinks it's valuable, and it is, just not in the way he believes." She went back to pacing. "What's more, he shouldn't have it in the first place. He who wishes to walk on water must first learn to swim." She turned to look at him. "Come with me to Chateau Haine. I'll explain everything on the way." She shrugged. "If nothing else, you get fine wine and fancy company. But…" Her smile was hopeful. "I hope you want more than that." She walked off.

Sebastian wasn't unable to come, because he said that it was his duty to protect the grand cleric and convince to leave the city. So, he left them backing Kirkwall and took off with the others.

* * *

Isabela was ecstatic about being able to take out her new ship, even if the crew were mere hirelings instead of 'proper' raiders.

"The jewel we're after is called the Heart of the Many," Tallis as they sailed to Orlais.

"Interesting name," said Hawke.

"Interesting jewel. All I care about is getting it away from the duke. Here's the problem: the Heart is in a vault, beneath who knows what kind of traps. Protected by private army of Orlesian chevaliers. All inside a fortress that was designed to be impenetrable. And let's not forget it's on the side of a mountain in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by monsters."

"Lovely," Hawke muttered.

* * *

"Andraste's tears, Prosper," someone shouted. "When is this going to get started?"

"Presently," the man in the plumed helmet said. "All right, everyone. You all know the tradition, yes? The first to find and slay a wyvern wins the honours of the evening. And bragging rights of course." Duke Prosper gestured. "Good luck to you all."

Hawke walked towards the Duke, only to have another man step between them. "I'm here by invitation. Would you tell your master that I've arrived?"

"Ah! The Champion of Kirkwall." Duke Prosper gestured at the other man. "These are honoured guests." He gave Hawke a small bow. "Please excuse Cahir." He chuckled. "A polite bodyguard is a contradiction in terms, or so I am told."

"A Chasind? Here?"

"Ah, yes, you are Fereldan, aren't you? You would know of his people."

"They traded in Lothering sometimes. My family never had a problem with them."

"See that, Cahir?" said the Duke looking to Cahir. "Now you have someone to speak to! He's so chatty, let me tell you." He bowed towards Tallis. "And who is this lovely specimen?"

"You flatter me, Your Grace," she said, shying away demurely.

The Duke gave him a considering look. "I must say, I didn't really expect you. I already have an Amell, you see. Or Hawke, I suppose it is." The Duke gestured at where a man in Warden armour was walking towards them. "A Grey Warden, no less. No doubt ensuring I don't accidentally cure their Blight business."

"Brother." Carver smiled.

"Perhaps you should join forces, to avoid any appearance of collusion between parties." The Duke gestured dismissively. "At any rate, I won't keep you from the hunt. Wouldn't want you to fall behind the others, yes?"

"I think I've never encountered a wyvern before," said Hawke.

"And why wouldn't you? They are exceptional beasts, magnificent cousins to the mighty dragons!" the Duke smiled. "My only advice? Beware their poison. It's the deadliest thing about them, as was the most valuable.

"Their poison is valuable?" Hawke stared.

"Indeed! For it can be brewed aquae lucidius, a libation adored even by the empress herself!"

"You'd think she be against drinking poison, on principle," said Varric.

"Her Imperial Majesty is many things 'careful' not one of them," the Duke joked. "But here we are, wasting valuable time on questions! Do you wish the others to beat you to the prize?"

"It will be interesting diversion, I'm sure," said Hawke.

"Good luck to you, my lord! Remember: fortune favours the bold."

* * *

"So what brings you here?" Hawke asked curiously.

"A wyvern hunt, same as you." Carver smiled, and then greeted the others. "At least that's what I assume brings you here."

"I'll fill you in later." Hawke glanced around, and got some information as to what the hunt entailed. He even got a recipe for the poison cure.

Hawke headed out to the hunting grounds, then, mostly to annoy Varric, headed uphill. It wasn't long before they encountered a few young dragons.

"Not our prey, I suspect," Fenris said, poking at one with the tip of his sword.

"Do dragons and wyverns even mix?" Tallis frowned. "I don't think so."

"So if we drop part of this in the right spot, we might lure a wyvern out to protect its territory?"

Tallis nodded excitedly. "Good thought. Do that."

* * *

Tallis glanced at Carver, her eyes resting for a moment on the griffin decorating his armour. "So you're Hawke's brother."

"We still admit that, on occasion." Carver gave her an equally considering look.

"But you're on good terms." Tallis glanced from one to the other.

"This second?" Carver shrugged. "I suppose so. The day's young, though."

Hawke shrugged. "We're fine. Just… different." He blinked, and then knelt down by a darkened splotch on the ground. Red was still dripping off a rock. "A lot of blood. Would that be from prey or from a wyvern itself?"

"I've heard they fight for dominance." Tallis peered at the blood. "Can't be gentle."

"Maybe we can use some to draw out rivals." He started rummaging in his belt pouch, and Carver handed him a small glass vial. Carefully, he filled it with the blood, and tucked it away. "Added to what we have already, is it enough to draw one out of hiding?"

"I'd say so." Tallis considered a moment. "A little one. Probably all we need. In the right spot…" She shrugged. "No doubt."

* * *

"This hobnobbing with the nobility suits you." Anders glanced at Hawke.

"I didn't think you have a particularly high opinion of them," said Hawke.

"I suspect that's an insult." He wrinkled his nose at some of the so-called hunters.

"Meant in the best possible way." Anders shrugged. "I knew the day I met you that you'd rise above the rest of the refugees." He sighed. "I wish there were more nobles who had to earn it."

* * *

They ran into a man and promise to look for his dogs.

Isabela glanced at Carver. "I always did like a man on a mission."

"Wardens go deep. It's a hard calling. And we also save the world."

Her eyes widened, and she smiled. "Very interesting."

"I'll tell you about it sometime, when I'm not, you know, saving the world."

Whatever reply Isabela was going to make was cut off by a screeching sound. "Is that… wyverns mating?" Tallis squinted into the distance.

"Could we mimic that?" Hawke asked.

"No." Tallis blinked. "Oh, the sound. Right, yes, I can try that."

Isabela snickered.

* * *

"Been a bit light on the career advice since I got here." Carver glanced over at Aveline as Hawke collected ingredients for the poison antidote.

"You've been a bit light on needing it." She shrugged. "Although, why the Wardens would care about a fop and his… his…"

"Utter waste of ability and time?"

"Yes!"

"He toys with big beasties. Who knows what he'll flush out of the dark?" Carver shrugged. "It's light duty. Can't lie about that."

* * *

"Watch it." Varric gestured at the cave. "Ghast hole."

Hawke blinked. "A what hole?"

Varric shrugged. "A scholar might call it something else, but they don't know their ghasts from a hole in the ground."

Anders ran a hand down his face. "And they say I'm the monster."

Then to their surprise they saw naked man heading down towards them with relief over his face.

"Oh, Blessed Andraste, thank you. I thought I'd die out here. I've been trapped here since last night."

"Were you injured? Why you out here?" Hawke asked.

"Ghasts were chasing me. I thought I could leave false trails…" The man sighed. "Truth told, I'm not looking for the wyvern. I'm a scholar from Cumberland, researching an Avvar cult that once lived here. They worshiped the Lady of the Skies to the exclusion of all other gods. I'm searching for their shrine."

Hawke pointed back in the direction they'd come. "I think I've been to your shrine. There were nothing but angry spirit at the site."

"Nothing else?" The man sighed. "Pity. I had hoped… ah well. The rumours say they were driven from their last refuge. They left a great treasure in the goddess's keeping." He offered a sheaf of notes. "But the mountain has defeated me. Please, take my research and see if you can do anything with it." Carver reached forward and took the notes. "I will try to make it back to camp. Good luck to you, serah."

* * *

Varric glanced up at Aveline. "Should have come to the Hanged Man last week. You missed Brennan drunk off her ass, reciting love poems to Corff."

"She did not!" Aveline looked at Hawke, who just sighed and nodded.

"Four hours she spent clinging to the bar, shouting sonnets at the poor man." Varric gestured.

"Ugh, a guardsman's poetry." Aveline shook her head. "That's assault, that is."

"Keep an eye on her." Varric lowered his voice dramatically. "I think she's in possession of a few concealed dirty limericks, too."

Hawke came around some trees and stopped. He wrinkled his nose.

"Oh," Tallis said. "A wyvern kill? Some kind of… halla or something?"

"That…" Hawke poked the mess with one end of his staff. "Could be a tunic."

"Don't know, don't care, it's bait they liked for some reason."

* * *

"You are too willing to involve yourself in the affairs of others, Hawke." Fenris gave Tallis a disapproving glance. "Each time you put yourself at risk. One day you will not be so lucky."

"You have a better idea?" Hawke raised an eyebrow.

"Guard what you have. Keep your head low."

"That sounds like a way to go through life without ever knowing anyone."

"I… suppose so," Fenris nodded.

"How well has that worked for you, Fenris?"

Fenris didn't answer.

* * *

They saved the dogs and returned them safely to their owner. He was a bit surprised to see mabari hounds belonging to an Orlesian. They came to a stop when they reached a very large pile of wyvern poo.

Hawke sighed. "Looking for clues."

"Oh, very mature," Carver said. "Why don't you just roll in it like a dog?"

Hawke ignored him and Tallis glanced down at what he'd found. "Ooh, nug bones. I wonder if a nug call would help attract a wyvern."

"You know a nug call?" He stood, looking at her in disbelief.

"You go elbow deep in wyvern shit and I'm the weird one?"

Hawke ignored her and went to the pond and washed his hands. "We must have enough to bait a trap now."

Tallis nodded. "In the right spot… no doubt."

* * *

They found a clearing. Tallis looked around. "Yes, I think this would be the place to find a wyvern. And room enough to kill the thing without getting sat on." She knelt, examining the area. "They're not stupid, though. We'll need some really good bait."

Hawke nodded. "Lay it all out. I'm bringing the duke a trophy to talk about."

"Yes." Tallis bounced, and then glanced back at him. "I mean, if you're sure." She started rummaging through what they had collected. "Let's get to it. We've got a lot of stuff to lay out, for starters." She took the vial. "Right, now the blood." She splashed it on her armour, and then gave him a defensive look when he raised an eyebrow. "What? The prey needs to be moving. Doesn't it?" She inhaled. "Okay, I'll do the sound. You get ready. Don't look at me while I do this."

He gestured for his companions to position themselves as Tallis proceeded to dance around and make an ungodly cacophony.

A moment later, something roared and a massive wyvern jumped out at them. Fortunately they were very prepared, Carver, Aveline and Fenris gems under the hiding places and plunge their swords into its back.

The wyvern tried to shake them off, but Varric shot its eyes out with Bianca. Isabela and Tallis struck it and its blind spots. Hawke, Merrill and Anders supported them with both defensive and offensive spells.

The wyvern then tried to make one last desperate attempt to eat Hawke, but he blasted a fireball down its gullet and then it collapsed.

Their victory was short lived when another group of hunters approached. "Well, if it isn't the Fereldan turnip." The leader of the other hunters glared. "They say you are the champion of some backwater city in the east. Quite the achievement, I'm sure. I suggest you run along with your servants while you have the chance. This wyvern was mine to kill, not yours." The man actually stomped his foot. "Mine, mine, mine. I paid good coin to be the one who wins this contest. It was my turn."

Hawke narrowed his eyes at the implied insult to his friends. "Oh, I didn't realise the duke was offering charity to his more useless guests. My mistake."

"I will not accept such talk from a backwater mongrel."

Tallis sighed. "You do realise Hawke can beat you like a rented mule, with both hands tied behind his back?"

"More insolence! From a knife-ear this time. I can take no more of this. Kill them all. We can say the wyvern was too much for them."

Hawke sighed, and drew his staff.

The hunters attacked, but they were very ill-equipped to deal with Hawke and his friends. It took no time at all for them to kill the hunter's party and knocking him to the ground.

"Now what is going on here?" Prosper asked.

"Prosper." The other hunter managed to get back to his feet. "This bloody bastard tried to steal my rightful kill."

The Duke gave the man a disbelieving look. "Now is that any way to speak of the Champion of Kirkwall, Baron?"

The Baron glared. "This is your fault for inviting a stinking turnip in the first place. Your mother would be ashamed."

Prosper laughed. "Says the man whose mother has slept with half of Val Chevin." He turned to look at Hawke. "My apologies. Arlange has always been a cheat. What would you have done with him?"

Tallis narrowed her eyes. "You're not suggesting…"

"Why not?" Prosper shrugged. "You believe Arlange would have stopped short of murder, given the chance?"

Hawke glanced at Tallis. "Something on your mind?"

"Just let him go. He's not worth your time, Hawke."

He agreed, actually. Prosper laughed again. "My word. Such mercy."

"He can't be more than he is, that's all," Tallis whispered. "You've bested him."

"I've no interest in more bloodshed," said Hawke.

"You hear that, Arlange?" Prosper gestured at the Baron. "It behooves you to leave while you still can."

"I…" Arlange sneered. "Fine. I will go."

Prosper turned back to them. "Congratulations on finding the wyvern. It looks like a fine one, indeed. There will be a celebration in the chateau courtyard. Do attend when you're ready."

Tallis waited for Prosper to leave, then glanced at Gabriel. "You let him go? That was…" She smiled. "Very merciful."

Carver shook his head. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"We should go to the chateau." Tallis gestured. "Time to practice your conversation."

"We're here for a reason. Let's take care of it," said Hawke as they made their way to the chateau.

Tallis nodded. "I'm with you."

* * *

Tallis came back towards them. "I had a quick look around. There's one door into the castle that isn't under heavy guard…"

Carver shrugged. "Here we go again."

"I can't get it open." She sighed. "And believe me, I tried. Bent a nice set of lockpicks in that stupid door. One of the duke's guardsmen must have the key. They wouldn't just look themselves out of the castle. I hope."

"Why else would the party be in the garden? He probably has someone breaking a window right now."

"I…" She considered a moment. "Could make that work, actually. But in the meantime, let's find someone with a key."

"Let's split up." Carver glanced at their group. "We don't want the duke to think we're laying siege to his party."

"Tallis and I will look for the key. In the meantime, scout out the castle for another way in."

"Let's see what we can find out." Tallis started heading in. "Come on!"

* * *

They found Prosper greeting several other guests and he turned the moment he saw them. "Ahh! At last, the hero of the hunt!"

He then turned to his guests. "The Champion of Kirkwall has the honour of the first kill this day!" The crowd cheered and raised their glasses. "To hunt the wyvern on its own ground is attempt fate: a terrible risk. But the prize…" He then presented Hawke with a finely crafted wyvern-skin belt. "I present to you this belt crafted of fine wyvern skin. Wear it well, and accept the accolade you are due."

"Thank you, Duke Prosper. I'm proud to be here," said Hawke politely.

"Your humility, my dear Hawke, does you great credit." He then heard a loud roar and then turned to find a huge wyvern within a cage. "Do not mind Leopold. My pet is always too temperamental before dinner."

"Leopold is it?" said Hawks staring. "I didn't know wyverns could be tamed."

"Tame is, perhaps, too strong of a word." He then turned to his guests. "My friends, I officially welcome you to Chateau Haine! Enjoy a taste of Orlesian hospitality!"

Hawke and Tallis began to mingle with the other guests and that's when you found someone he recognised, Lady Elegant. Before she was made a lady, she had helped the Red Iron by providing them potions. She had always been quite fond of Hawke and as such she provided him with potions whenever he acquired.

She told them of several people that she should mingle with and several he should avoid. Comtesse de Launcet gave him an apologetic look, for she had been a friend of his mothers. Hawke noticed that had two daughters did not share the sympathy and they looked as if they had a horrible smell under the nose. Seneschal Bran was also in attendance, with the lovely Serendipity on his arm. Tallis found that somewhat awkward.

* * *

He then found a fellow Fereldan, Bann Teagan Guerrin.

"My word… has anyone told you, you're the splitting image of the Champion of Kirkwall?" said Teagan.

Hawke did his best to restrain a laugh. "My name is Hawke. I didn't catch your name, sir…?"

Teagan looked embarrassed. "Maker's breath, now I feel like an idiot. I should have realised, I'm Bann Teagan Guerrin."

"Who is this man, Teagan?" a woman asked.

"I beg your pardon, my dear. Kaitlyn this is the Champion of Kirkwall," said Teagan. "Hawke, allow me to present my wife, Kaitlyn."

Hawke kissed the young woman's hand, and then glanced back at Teagan. "It is warming to find a fellow Fereldan here."

"Indeed, but I'm not the only Fereldan attending, Bann Kallian is also here," Teagan smiled.

"Kallian? As in Kallian Tabris, the first even nobles since the fall of the Dales?" Tallis asked.

"The same," Teagan nodded. He then looked at Hawke curiously. "You remind me a great deal of someone I once knew." Teagan suddenly smiled. "Ah, that's right. You and Daylen are cousins, are you not?"

"We are. Though we've never actually met."

Teagan nodded. "He hasn't seen for four years, he's disappeared without a trace. Anyway, a pleasure to see you again. If you speak to Bann Perrin, I don't advise you to bring up the Chantry. Or…" He shrugged. "Knickers."

* * *

He followed Teagan's advice and found Kallian and can help but notice that several of the nobles were the giving her a wide berth.

"I see you're not afraid to talk to a knife-ear," said Kallian as they approached.

"Why won't I be?" Hawke asked.

"Forgive me, many of the nobles have ordered me to fetch their drinks, it does get tiresome," said Kallian. She looked at him curiously. "Ah, you must be the Champion of Kirkwall."

"How do you know—?"

"Zevran told me in great detail about you and I must say he did not exaggerate."

Hawke then remember that both Kallian and Zevran were lovers, in fact he also knew that Isabela had been in bed with her as well.

"I take it that the guest not too happy to have an elf is an equal?" Hawke assumed.

"You've guessed correctly, but there's very little they can do about it except ignore me. Besides, they know that I've killed an Arl, who try to rape me and assisted in the assassination of another so they do not like to cross me." She then looked up and down at him. "I must say I can see the family resemblance between you and Daylen."

"I suppose you know what happened to those that accompany you and the other Wardens? The Hero of Ferelden's book doesn't say."

"Let's see, Morrigan disappeared without a trace after the Battle of Denerim. Leliana is doing work for the Chantry I believe. Sten returned to Par Vollen. Wynne I believe became the court mage for Elissa and Alistair. Zevran I believe is still running from the Crows and sometimes does a little work for me when I ask both in and out of bed. Shale, the golem, went to the Imperium to find a way to return to flesh and blood, whether she succeeded I do not know. And Oghren joins the Grey Wardens and is now a Senior Warden I believe, Maker help us."

"And no word of my cousin?"

"I'm afraid I'm a bit out of the loop within the Wardens, but that's what happens when you leave and try to create an entire new noble lineage. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the rest of today."

* * *

"Sister Nightingale?"

Leliana smiled. "Champion. It is good to see you again, under less…" She twitched a shoulder. "Dire circumstances. I—" Her gaze went to his companion. "Tallis?"

"Leliana. It's so lovely to see you again." There was a small trace of panic on Tallis's face, and her eyes darted around momentarily.

"You look stunning this evening. You hair is darling. Did you do it yourself?"

Hawke glanced from one woman to the other. "I get the distinct impression you've met before."

"Oh, briefly." Tallis shrugged. "A long time ago."

There was an uncomfortably knowing look in Leliana's eyes. "You meet all sorts of people in Orlais. It keeps life exciting."

"I get the feeling that there some trouble here," said Hawke.

"No, no trouble at all!" Leliana assured.

"Everything is fine, Hawke! Why would you think otherwise?" Tallis asked and then looked back at Leliana. "We shouldn't take up any more of your time, Leliana. I'm sure you have…" She glanced at the wine glass in her hand, and casually dumped it into a nearby plant. "Things. That need attention. Right now."

Leliana lifted her own glass in Tallis's direction before taking a sip.

"What was that about?" Hawke glanced at Tallis.

"Oh, nothing. Let's see if we can find the guard with the key."

* * *

They found the guard and Tallis struck out first with the guard, then with a servant. After a bit more work, she also struck out with Prosper's son, Lord Cyril. She threw her hands up into the air. "This is officially my worst night ever."

"Not Lord Cyril's type?"

She shook her head. "Maybe he just doesn't like elves." She glanced over her shoulder. "Or women." She turned back to him. "In either case, you're the answer. He has the key. Go get it." When he glared, she shrugged. "What? It's your turn, Hawke. Go on."

"I suppose it won't hurt for me to go and talk to him," said Hawke.

"Please, please try! I think he likes you!" said Tallis.

He glared at her again before heading in. Lord Cyril was examining a tapestry. "Tell the elf that her pleas are for nothing. She's pretty enough, I suppose. No doubt there are some men who would like that sort of thing."

"I thought you might be a man of…" He mentally apologised to Merrill. "Refined tastes."

"I heard the same of you, Monsieur Hawke."

He leaned forward and whispered into Cyril's ear, helping himself to the key as he did so. "Why don't we talk again after the party?"

Cyril nodded eagerly, and went back to examining the tapestry. Tallis was waiting outside for him. "You have it. Tell me you have it."

"I have it."

"Good. Then we can find the…" She swallowed. "Jewel and get this over with."

"You don't sound that excited."

"It's simply been a long time coming, that's all."

He gave her a concerned look. "This jewel is that important to you?" There was clearly something she hadn't told them.

"Yes. I suppose it is. I want this part of my life finished."

"This is our best chance, while everyone is occupied," Hawke agreed.

"Right you are."

* * *

She was more upset than he'd have thought by having to kill the guard. "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't want to kill him."

"I've seen you kill several men."

"There are other paths. They do not all need to lead to the same destination." She stood back up. "Enough. We're here for the Heart." She turned towards him. "I'd like to do this quietly. Alert as few guards as possible. What do you think?"

Hawke agreed. "Let's do it quietly. We shouldn't get into a fights we don't have to."

"I'm glad you agree. Let's go."

* * *

Carver and Isabela were strolling around the outskirts of the chateau and Isabela can help but notice that Carver was leading her away from the chateau.

"Where we going?" she asked.

"Someplace private," said Carver smiling slightly.

That peaked Isabela's interest. "Oh, and what has the big bad warden got in mind?"

"Something you'll like."

They soon entered into a small cove where a waterfall was crashing down into a small pond.

"I like," said Isabella seductively.

They then pulled each other into a kiss and at once began to eat away at each other's faces. Biting lips tongue is fighting for dominance and casually they began to remove their clothing.

Carver then let her down into the pond and he felt the cold water brushing against his naked skin. It kept on descending until the lower half of their bodies were in the water.

"Show me what you've got," Isabela smiled seductively.

Carver then turned her around and inserted his length into her. At once her hands grassed around the edge of the pond and she panted and moaned every time Carver slammed into her. He then clasped his hand around her breasts and began to fumble with them.

Isabela's moans consumed the entire cove and carefully, without removing her from his length, she turned around to face him. Carver then placed a hand against her back and firmly clasped her ass.

She then wrapped her legs around him forcing him to increase his speed and Carver began to nibble at and nipples and she moaned even louder. Her hands traced around his neck until finally she unleased her with liquids.

However, Carver had not finished just yet and he kept on pulling in and out. He had as much stamina as Kallian, but he did lack her technique she would just have to teach him a few tricks. She then pulled him into a kiss and won the fight of dominance within his mouth and at the same time he unleashed his liquids into her.

Both panting slightly they lay there on the bank of the cove breathing deeply.

"How did you like that?" Carver asked.

"Not bad, but you do lack something in your technique," said Isabela.

"Everyone's a critic," Carver muttered.

"You just need some practice, and I would happy to teach one my ship," she said seductively.

"And I would welcome it, but right now we need to check the others before they realise we're missing," said Carver pulling himself up.

"All work and no play," Isabela sighed. "Fine, but you're making it up for me on my ship."

* * *

Hawke had to knock out a guard to get the key. Since the man was unconscious anyway, he took a few moments to make a few additions to Leopold's evening repast, just in case. A sick wyvern should be an adequate distraction.

Cautiously, he and Tallis moved up the stairs. He found another unconscious guard, and blinked. He didn't recall knocking that one out. Maybe the man was just having a nap. Or maybe Tallis had done it when he wasn't looking. He shrugged, and kept moving.

* * *

He found pieces of a Fog Warrior amulet and pocketed them to show Fenris later. They came down a flight of stairs, and found the vault. Naturally, it was guarded by an annoying floor puzzle of switches. "It's never as easy as it seems, is it?"

It took several minutes and the unfortunate destruction of two no doubt priceless statues, but they got the door open. He glanced at Tallis as they entered the vault. "Something wrong?"

"I don't know." She looked around as guards started to enter. "Yes."

"Don't fret, my dear," Prosper said.

Hawke turned around and counted the guard. He quickly drew out his staff. "Yes, this qualifies as wrong."

"It's not over yet," Tallis said.

"But it is over." Prosper shrugged. "I knew who you were the moment you arrived, assassin."

"Assassin? I knew it," said Hawke turning on Tallis.

"You…" She glanced back at him. "Did?"

He shook his head at her. "You can acting strangely ever since we arrived."

"Clever man." Prosper nodded. "Have you also deduced that your elven friend is Qunari?"

"You're…" Hawke stared at her. "Qunari?"

"It's…" She had the good graces to look abashed. "Complicated."

"I assume Tallis has her reasons," said Hawke turning to Prosper.

Prosper look surprised. "My! She chose you well, didn't she?"

Tallis turned towards Prosper. "Look, I came to stop the Heart from doing something we will all regret." She gestured at Hawke. "He didn't. Leave him out of this."

"And waste all the effort I spent luring you here before the Heart's arrival?" Prosper shook his head. "Don't be foolish."

" _Asay hassatra maas_ ," Tallis said.

" _Maas avastrasa kulun_ ," Prosper replied. He gestured. "Take them away."

* * *

The Seeker blinked. "The elf was Qunari?"

"And the dwarf has no beard. I know, it made no sense to me, either." Varric shrugged. "Maybe they cut her horns off?"

"The Qunari are not a race." The Seeker narrowed her eyes. "They are a religion. What I don't understand is why a Qunari agent would try to kill one of her own people. And why involve the Champion?"

"Excellent questions."

"I expect answers to match."

"I live to please," Varric said, settling back down in the chair.

* * *

Hawke was pacing around their cell while Tallis just sat on the floor.

"I have a question," she said. Hawke sat down on the only bench in the cell. "When the Duke told you what I was, you said you didn't care. Was that true?"

Hawke crossed his arms. "You could have told me the truth. I might have listened."

"And what if you didn't?"

Hawke shrugged. "I suppose we'll never know."

Tallis gave him an apologetic look. "I am sorry. This didn't work out like I'd planned…" She gestured at the cell they were sitting in. "Obviously."

Hawke shook his head. "What was your plan, exactly?"

"The one I expected to find is named Salit, a member of the Ben-Hassrath…" She sighed. "The Heart of the Many. I was told he's here to sell secrets to the Orlesians, and I came to stop him. I…" She looked down at her hands. "Suppose I was misinformed."

"So you came here to stop this Salit from betraying your people?" An understandable motive, anyway.

"You probably won't believe me, but this isn't a political mission. It's…" She stood up. "Personal."

"What do you mean?"

"Salit was my _bessrathari_ — the one who recruited me into the Ben-Hassrath. My tutor. He's the one who saw my potential, convinced me I could make a difference. It doesn't matter now."

A family matter. That he understood. "But you said he was selling secrets."

"He is, or at least he intends to. One last act of defiance." She shook her head. "I can't let him do that. Not when he'll hurt so many others in the process."

"You mean he'll hurt other Qunari."

"Not every Qunari is a soldier, you know. There are tens of thousands of farmers, artisans, craftsmen…" She shook her head. "People who have never hurt anyone. People whose only crime is living. They don't deserve what he's going to do to them." Neither had many of the people of Kirkwall, or those that would be killed or brainwashed when the Qunari did actually invade. "But it's more than my duty to stop Salit. It is my moral obligation."

"So everything you told me was a lie."

"Not everything."

"So I just missed the part where you're one of the people I drove into Kirkwall." He'd killed one of the leaders of her people. A people who'd happily put him in a collar and sew his mouth shut.

"You don't need horns to embrace the Qun." She paced the cell. "What you need is a purpose. A belief in unity, in improving the lot not only for your own people but for everyone."

Everyone except those who had their mouths sewn shut. "You sound like you believe that."

"I do. Nobody controlling my mind. I'm not insane." She then turned to face him. "Being Qunari doesn't automatically mean you're a zealot." She gestured. "Most Qunari don't even understand humans, why you act like you do." She walked towards him. "But I grew up among you. I understand perfectly well."

He was a human, and he didn't understand them most days. And clearly he didn't understand elves either. "Wait… aren't you here to kill someone for the Qunari?"

"I never said I was killing him for the Qunari."

He rested his head in a hand. "So you're improving his lot? Perhaps repeatedly?"

She sighed. "I know it's not easy to understand. After what the Arishok did, I hardly blame you. But just tell me: can you honestly say there's nothing to improve, nothing to strive for? We believe in striving together. We may stumble, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try."

"I'm not arguing about that." The ideal was nice. The methods left a lot to be desired.

"It's who I am. I joined the Ben-Hassrath because I felt it meant something." When he tilted his head at her, she corrected herself. "Means something."

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself."

"It's been a long time since I even talked to anyone about it." She gestured. "I suppose it's not really prison cell conversation."

He stood, and did some pacing of his own. Had his friends found a way in, or had they found trouble of their own? "So did you really involve me just because I had an invitation?"

"You were the only one on the invitation list who wasn't a personal friend of the Montfort family." She smiled at him. "And you're also _basalit-an_ , remember? An outsider worthy of respect."

Hawke looked at as surprised. "You know about that?"

"Of course. If there was anyone a Qunari should or would consider going to for help… it's you."

Hawke frowned. "And what was going to happen when this was over?"

"I thank you, we go our separate ways?"

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Really? I wouldn't notice a thing?"

"Truth? You're…" She shrugged and looked him over. "Not exactly what I was expecting. I've heard a few stories about you. They don't quite do you justice. Perhaps if I'd done my homework, I would have known more about you. Given you the respect you deserve." She leaned against the wall. "Nothing I can do about it now."

He sighed and sat back down on the bench. "I assume you have some sort of plan."

"I always have a plan."

"A good one?"

She sighed. "The first order of business is getting out of here before His Grace decides we would taste good in the soup…" She shrugged. "Or whatever he has planned." She glanced at him. "Any ideas?"

"We didn't come here alone, remember?"

* * *

Fenris came to a halt. "So… we're lost?"

Isabela looked around. "Definitely."

"Now what do we do?"

"I could try to guess the color of your underclothes again." Isabela shrugged.

Anders shook his head, and turned towards her. "All right, we should have tried your suggestion."

"Which? Challenging the guards to a game of riddles and making, 'Where is Hawke?' one of the questions?"

He glared. "I meant the, 'Follow one wall, and you'll navigate the maze,' idea."

"Well, we can try it next time." She gestured at Fenris. "Either that, or, 'Let's get a sledgehammer and break down the walls,' I thought that had merit."

* * *

"We've been going in circles for over an hour." Aveline kicked at the wall.

"I'm so used to Hawke leading the way, I think my sense of direction has withered." Varric looked up at her. "So… wait for him to rescue us?"

"When you tell this part? Leave it out." She sighed.

* * *

"A shame we didn't have time like this back at Kirkwall. Back then," said Carver.

Merrill looked around. "If we have to be lost somewhere, at least it's a nice hallway! Very well built, not at all likely to collapse."

"Right, well, let's get on with it. My brother will be missing you."

* * *

Tallis gave a vexed sigh. "That's it. I'm officially tired of waiting to be rescued." She walked over and unlatched the portcullis.

Hawke stared at her. "Why didn't you just do that before?"

She gave him a defensive look. "You said your friends were coming."

And speaking of his friends, there were Isabela, Anders, Fenris, Carver and Merrill. Merrill gave him a worried look. " _Ma vhena_! Thank the Creators! How did you escape? Was exciting? Did you shank someone?"

"Let's just get out of here," said Carver.

Hawke glanced at Tallis. "So back through the castle, then?"

"Unless there's a better way than fighting through the duke's entire army. I'll show you."

* * *

They found Aveline and Varric dealing with a few guards. "You're right?" Aveline asked.

"As well to be expected," said Hawke.

* * *

"Done with my hospitality already, are we?" Duke Prosper glared down at them. "Such a shame."

Hawke shrugged. "It's not that we don't appreciate the accommodations, but you know how it is."

"Alas, it's too soon for my guests to leave. You will miss the main event."

He shrugged. "I could live with that."

"No. I am afraid you couldn't."

"Just let go, Prosper. It's me you want," said Tallis.

"What I want is to ensure you cannot further hinder my plans."

Prosper turned his back on them and close the gate behind him. "Do your job and kill them, Chasind. Is that not why I keep you around?"

"That is it," Cahir growled. "Hold them. I'm releasing the pets."

Cahir then left and then they were attacked by what could only be described as bunch of Orlesian clowns with knives. It in take them long to kill them and they carried on down the corridors trying to find a way to get out.

* * *

A passage in one of the vaults led them back to the dungeon. He started to walk back to find the way his friends had come when a large crack in the wall caught his eye.

Tallis suddenly smiled. "I think this can get us out." She glanced at them. "Got everything from the chateau? The way those rocks look, I don't want to test this path more than once."

"There's a lake? In the middle of the mountain?" Hawke shook his head.

Tallis nodded. "The Retreat needed to house hundreds of people during the Blight, if not thousands. Can't do that without fresh water." She gestured at a path. "Here we go, this will lead us out."

She started down the path, and then stopped. "That's odd. I could swear there was…"

A portcullis slammed shut between her the others. She glanced over her shoulder. "Trust me." And promptly ran off.

"Tallis." He shook his head, and then turned to face his new problems. Well, hadn't he just been hoping for the chance to fight crazy mages? Wishes did come true.

Cahir was giving a speech when Tallis threw her knife, missing him by inches. She jumped down from her vantage point and re-joined them.

* * *

"And there's the way out." Tallis gestured. "See? I told you I had a plan. It was a good plan, the kind that had an escape and everything."

"Not a monster lair." Hawke shrugged. "That is a good sign."

She turned to face him. "So you could go. There are, however…" She gave him a hopeful look. "Other options."

"What you had in mind?" Hawke asked.

"You been so reasonable since we were captured. I'm… hoping that hasn't changed." She then looked at him hopefully "What Salit is going to do will harm so many innocents—my people as well as yours. It's my duty to stop him. Even so, I can't do it alone. Not anymore."

Was she actually asking for his help? She was crazier than he was. "After everything you've already done, why would I help you again?"

She touched his face. "Because I've got your nose?"

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "The Qun taught you that?"

"If I were following the Qun, I would actually have your nose." She looked up at him. "I suppose that doesn't help." She sighed. "If I had my way, you would never have been this involved in the first place."

He wasn't leaving without his brother anyway. "What did you have in mind, exactly?"

"Well, we could go back, maybe have some tea with the duke. Get to know one another. Then, just as he starts to trust us, you slip a bag over his head and we drag him to Antiva."

Hawke shook his head. "I hope you're not serious."

"Or we could find out when Salit is arriving, and stop him before it's too late."

He glanced back at his companions. They gave him various shrugs. He looked back to Tallis. "Explain what's so terrible about Salit's plan."

"I…" She gave a frustrated sigh. "Can't. Not completely. And yes, I know. That's a hard sell. The information Salit plans to turn over to Orlais won't just hurt Qunari, however. It will harm anyone living in Qunari lands. Even those who fled the Qunari, of any race, will be condemned to persecution forever."

"So this isn't just some political scheme."

"If only it was." Tallis paced. "I'm not here on some directive from the Qun, I came…" She sighed. "Salit was declared Tal-Vashoth, but they didn't deem intervention worthwhile. I…" She shrugged. "Couldn't agree. I had to try."

"Doesn't that make you Tal-Vashoth as well?"

"No. The Ben-Hassrath didn't order me not to do this, but here I am anyway." She chuckled. "I was trying to earn my way back into their good graces. This probably won't help."

Her own people were fed up with her. "Why? What did you do?"

"It's not easy, being an elf in the Qun. You're not born to it like they are." She folded her arms. "I've struggled to find that peace, that certainty. I know it's there, I just…" She shrugged. "Keep falling short." She looked at him. "What about you? Have you ever been part of something bigger than just yourself?"

"I protect Kirkwall. Or is that not what you mean?"

"It's not the same thing." She gestured. "The Qunari have a vision of what life should be like. Free from pain and fear and doubt. You see tyranny and I see caring, an interest in the welfare of all. Yes, it could be better. But so could human indifference and cruelty. Or do you disagree?"

"No, you… have a point."

"Then help me stop this before it goes too far."

"I see your side. What now?"

"That's up to you. I couldn't force you to help, even if I wanted to."

He watched her walk away, then glanced at his companions. He sighed, and started after Tallis.

* * *

Baron Arlange came back for a visit. He was still sore that Hawke bested him in the hunt and had completely forgotten how easily Hawke and his companions had defeated him. The archers took aim, but he simply cassoulet barrier and blocked the shots. Then his companions began to cut away at his forces.

Tallis shrugged. "He was persistent. I'll give him that much."

* * *

They fought a bunch of Qunari, and learned about the meeting place. Tallis looped around the other side while he went in to provide a distraction. They soon found the Duke and this Salit preparing their transaction.

"Let's get this over with Qunari, before your assassins find us. Already I regret agreeing to spare them."

"I have chosen my path. That choice should not—"

" _Parshaara!_ " Prosper snapped. "I am here to facilitate your deal with the empress, nothing more."

Salit pulled out his blades and Prosper's men nervously reached for theirs. However they were relaxed when Salit dug the blade into the ground. Then he and one of Prosper's men approached one another and Salit gave him a scroll.

The man looked at the scroll.

"Well?" the duke asked.

The man looked at him confused. "Names, Your Grace. It's… a list of names."

Prosper quickly snatched the scroll and looked at it and then glared at Salit. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You asked for weapon. I am providing it," said Salit simply.

Prosper glared at him. "We expected the formulas for blackpowder! Dreadnought plans, a map of Qunandar, anything! This… this is useless!"

It was at that point that one of Prosper's men notice them.

"Your Grace!"

Prosper glared. "Champion. I should have known you would turn up." He then handed the scroll to one of his men, failing to realise that man was a female elf.

"There is no need for you to die here, Duke Prosper," said Hawke hoping to avoid bloodshed.

"You dare address me thus, pissant," Prosper glared.

Prosper suddenly turned and saw Tallis fighting his men with the scroll in her hand. She then somersaulted onto one of the ruined pillars in the ruins they were in.

"Tallis," said Salit.

Tallis glared down at him. "I said I would stop you, Salit."

"And I said I would slay you if you tried."

"If anyone is going to do any slaying, it will be me!" Prosper yelled pulling out a crossbow.

He pull the trigger on a crossbow fired some weird gunk on Salit, but it wasn't poisonous. Then they heard of roar and looked up to see Leopold on top of the ruins and it jumped down and killed Salit. Clearly the gunk was what attracted it.

"Kill them all," Prosper ordered as he mounted Leopold.

The presence of Leopold the wyvern did complicate matters, but the additions he'd made to the food earlier seemed to help. There were some explosions, a lot of soldiers, and more Qunari. Against the blades of Aveline, Fenris, Carver, Tallis, and Isabela, backed up by the spells of Anders, Merrill, and Hawke himself, their enemies fared poorly. Varric even helped. A little.

Prosper hit him with a blast of that green goo. Hawke glanced down, and saw Leopold charging. He held his ground until the last moment, then sent out a spray of ice before dodging. Leopold skidded on the ice, and his momentum took him out over the cliff. The wyvern fell, but the duke managed to catch hold of the ledge. Hawke walked over.

"Keep away from me," the duke said, hanging on with one hand. "The empress will hear of this! Orlais will burn Kirkwall to the ground. All of you will die screaming, I swear it!"

He doubt the empress would attack a city in the Free Marches that would be an act of war. "I would have tried begging for mercy, but that's just me."

"You… blasted… turnip."

"Thank you for the lovely party. I'll treasure the belt."

The duke's grip slipped, and he fell down the cliff. He hit two rocks on the way down.

Carver shrugged. "Drop a sword on him."

"Looks like the duke… has fallen from grace," said Hawke.

There was a massive groan from everyone.

* * *

"If the duke only knew what he nearly had in his grasp." Tallis was kneeling by Salit's body. "Thank you. There's no way I could have done this without your help."

"What is the scroll?"

"This is a list of agents throughout Thedas. Qunari like myself." She touched the scroll. "Many of them have children, family, friends. They're people you wouldn't suspect. Some have even left the Qun behind. But if this list fell into human hands, they and everyone they know…"

"Would be killed," Hawke finished.

She nodded. "The Ariqun believes they knew the risks, but what about the innocents. I… I couldn't let this happen."

"So what now?" Hawke asked. "You aren't just going to leave, are you?"

Tallis chuckled. "You think I would fit into your merry entourage?"

Isabela touched her chin thoughtfully. "Let's see… are you possessed? Consorting with demons? A pathological liar?"

"I am none of those things," Aveline pointed out.

"Can you run five miles carrying a cow of your head?"

"That's better."

"I have six toes on my left foot."

Hawke wasn't sure if she was joking or not. "Eh. Close enough."

Tallis shook her head and turned to Hawk. "Maybe some other time, Hawke. I still have a few things to do… but I am grateful. I want you to know that."

"Maybe those agents should be discovered."

"I believe in the Qun, but I'm not doing this to protect the Qunari." She touched the scroll again. "This list doesn't distinguish innocent from guilty, it doesn't show the friends, lovers, children who…" She shook her head. "Nobody should have it."

She was right, in her way. "This was important."

"You've been… so much more than I expected."

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Such as gullible?"

"No. I wish I'd just told you the truth right from the beginning."

"That would have been interesting."

"Oh, before I forget." She tossed him an amulet with a very large gem. "That was going to be the Heart of the Many. You'd find a jewel, while I'd go off and find Salit…" She glanced down at the bodies. "And be back before anyone was the wiser. I suppose nothing ever goes like we plan, does it?" She waved cheerfully. "Take care of yourself, Hawke. Maybe we'll meet again sometime."

* * *

They soon returned Isabela's ship and while they were selling back to Kirkwall, he noted the absence of both the captain and his brother. He could also hear certain noises emanating from the captain's quarters and just shook his head.

* * *

"Let me guess: you haven't seen Tallis since that day."

Varric shrugged. "A safe assumption, given her nature."

The Seeker gestured. "And who is left to appease Orlais after a duke's murder at the hands of the Champion of Kirkwall?"

"Prosper invited it by dealing with Tal-Vashoth. Possibly under orders from Empress Celene." He grinned. "Imagine the scandal if that was known."

"If you believe a Qunari agent."

"That's the difficult part, isn't it." He folded his hands. "I don't know why Hawke helped Tallis. I suppose she was pretty for a Qunari." He leaned back. "Whatever the reason, I doubt it's the last we've seen of her." He shifted slightly. "But what do I know? I just tell stories."


	36. On the Loose

Hawke met up with Isabela, who, despite having our own ship, had left to sail the seas. She was at the Hanged Man having a drink.

Isabela looked quite surprised and seeing him. "You… you're here. Good. I… wanted to talk to you."

Hawke sat down in the chair opposite her. "Ah, you're still here. At least some things are consistent in this ever-changing world."

Isabela blinked. "What? If you call your rock or foundation, I'm going to hit you. Anyway, I'm glad you're here. Save me the trouble of having to go look for you." She looked slightly uneasy and leaned towards him. "I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me. I'm glad you walked in here all those years ago."

"You've been a good friend and constant source of excitement," Hawke smiled as he placed his tankard to his lips.

He could have sworn Isabela brushed. "Oh, you do know how to flatter a girl. It's funny. Now that I think about it, getting a ship doesn't seem that important. I just hate to have to say goodbye. You're the best phone I've had in… in a very long time."

She laughed and raised her tankard. "A toast, to friendships and us."

"Don't you mean to you and my brother?" Hawke smirked.

Isabela blinked. "Oh, you know about that."

"We could hear the noises coming from your cavern while we sailed back," Hawke shrugged.

"Sometimes I forget that I'm not with my old crew, they're quite used to the noises. Though I have to say your brother need to bit more practice, and I'm happy to provide."

Hawke shook his head and you re-entered into the territories of too much information.

* * *

When he return to this state he discovered a note from the Knight-Commander on his desk. He was surprised after the spectacle outside the Keep that she contacted him. One seemed polite, even warm. It had apparently come with a gift, a templar style suit of armour. She was asking him to meet her at the templar hall at his earliest convenience.

* * *

Knight-Captain Cullen's smile was slightly cold when Hawke entered templar hall the next morning. Hawke walked over to the man and offered greetings. "Champion. It seemed you've become less friendly to the templars in the years since your ascension." Cullen tilted his head. "But surely you're the only mage in Kirkwall who can approach the knight-commander directly if you wished. What would you have of me?"

He might not agree with Cullen on everything, but he did like and respect the man. "Everyone says the knight-commander's gone crazy. Are you still behind her?"

"The people ask too much of her. She needs a spine of iron to survive her position. I have seen madness before. I saw Uldred's eyes when there was nothing human left in them. The knight-commander…" Cullen sighed. "She is not there yet. But I do not have to ask where the rumours come from."

"I just wanted to see how an old friend is doing in this difficult time."

"After what happened in Ferelden, I told myself I would never again question the purpose of the Order." Cullen moved as if a great weight was sitting on his shoulders. "But it grows harder each day to tell whether I am serving the templars or only the knight-commander. It may be that they are no longer one and the same."

* * *

Meredith gave a cold smile when she saw him. "Champion. Welcome."

"What is this urgent matter you spoke of?" Hawke asked.

He gave her a bow. "Always a pleasure, and may I say that outfit was a wise choice?"

"I do not wear this armor for the way it looks, Champion."

"No? That's far too flattering to be an accident."

She gestured for him to walk with her. "There was an incident within the Gallows. A number of phylacteries were destroyed and several mages took the opportunity to escape. We've recovered most of the fugitives. However, I require your assistance in tracking down the last three."

He blinked. "How did the phylacteries get destroyed?"

Her fists clenched. "An insurrection. Several of my own templars orchestrated the escape, presumably out of sympathy for the mages. They turned their backs on their duty and endangered their charges, as well as the city. Thankfully most who escaped fled to their families and offered no resistance. The last three are proving more…" Her head shake revealed frustration. "Difficult."

"I'm surprised you would turn to me," said Hawke crossing his arms. "We haven't always seen eye to eye."

"I have asked you to track these fugitives so you might save yourself what we templars deal with every day. If you still think them worth our mercy, tell me then."

If they were dangerous, he'd take care of it. If they weren't, well, he's still take care of it. "I'll see what I can do."

"I am relieved. I was expecting resistance, after that debacle at the market. Talk to these mages' families, learn where they are hiding and find them before they do harm." She nodded to him. "I know you, of all people, understand the danger such apostates pose. Speak to my assistant, Elsa. She can tell you what you need to know about the fugitives. I bid you good day, Champion."

After she left he went to speak with Elsa. It was somewhat disturbing, talking to a Tranquil, but he got the information he needed. He bid her farewell, and then went to go get some backup.

* * *

"Oh. Greetings, messere. My mistress is away, seeing to a customer, but she will be back shortly. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Hawke gave her a friendly smile. "You could tell me about your husband, Huon. That would be helpful."

Nyssa sighed, and leaned against one of the pillars in the market stand. "When the templars came, I told them the truth—I hadn't seen Huon in ten years. But after they left, he… he came to me. He wanted me to hide him. I used to dream of him returning. But not like this. He's changed, and I don't know him anymore. I sent him away." Her voice was melancholy.

"So you hadn't seen him since he left you."

"Huon didn't leave me." Her eyes narrowed. "He was taken away. When the templars found out he was a mage, they chained him and dragged him from the alienage. In front of everyone. Now I'm trapped in this…" She shook her head. "This sham. Married, but with no husband, and no future."

"Did he hurt you?"

"Only broke my heart."

"How has Huon changed?"

"He was obsessed with showing everyone true elven power. He frightened me. If he had been himself."

"Do you know where Huon went after you send him away?" Hawke asked.

Nyssa shook her head. "I don't know. He… disappeared. B-but Huon said he would return to take me away from this forever."

"A user. Just looking for another handout," said Aveline.

"I know what he means, and I'm afraid of him, messere."

"Would it help if I returned? I'll make sure you're safe."

"I…" She hesitated, then glanced at Merrill, and then finally nodded. "Would be grateful. Huon said he would come to the alienage soon, at nightfall. Are you… are you going to arrest him? I think he needs help. Maybe the Circle will be able to heal whatever troubles him."

"Thoughts?" Hawke glanced at his friends.

Merrill frowned. "She knew him best. If she's scared…"

"It may be with good reason," Aveline Fenris said.

He sighed, and nodded.

* * *

A guard greeted them as they re-entered the Alienage. There was something vaguely familiar about the elven woman. Her eyes widened as she saw them. "Champion. It's Lia. Do you remember me? You saved me from that murderer when I was a kid." She blinked when she saw Aveline. "Sorry, Captain. I don't mean to—"

Aveline gave her a nod, but there was a fondness in her eyes. "Not at all. Go on."

"I wanted to say thank you. I wasn't thinking straight the day you saved me. That monster deserved what he got." She gave Aveline a nod. "Captain."

"Dismissed." Aveline watched the young woman returned to her duties, then smiled at Hawke. "She joined the guard a couple months back. She's got a good understanding of what we're up against."

Hawke watched the elves of the alienage give the young guardswoman friendly nods as she passed. "Good to know she's doing well."

Aveline nodded. "Lia is shaping up well. I've had two more elves apply to join since taking in Lia."

* * *

They were attacked. By the time they'd dealt with the attackers, Nyssa was nearly to Huon. Her walk was slow, almost stiff-legged. She whimpered her husband's name.

"Hush, love. Don't be afraid." Huon drove the dagger up under her ribcage. "Your blood will bring new life to our people." He laid her down almost tenderly. "She was so beautiful."

Hawke had said he'd protect her. He'd failed. "You're going to pay for what you did."

"I am a visionary. I've seen our destiny." Huon's eyes glowed strangely. "I know what fate holds for the elves. The humans keep us down because they're afraid of the magic within us." Nyssa's blood began to swirl in the air around him. "Look at the magic Nyssa held inside her. She was just afraid to use it."

"It's always the same." Fenris drew his blade. "Always."

Hawke was really beginning to wish Fenris didn't have a point. He called his magic to him as the demons came.

* * *

They went back to where he remembered Evelina being. There were two boys now on the spot. One was an older lad, probably sixteen, while the other looked closer to ten. The older boy glared defensively as they approached. "We got nothing here you'd want. Get back to Hightown and leave us alone."

"Does Evelina live here? Why are you here?" Hawke asked.

"This is our home as much as it is hers. Evelina shared everything she had with us." His voice became angry and sad. "She was our mother. Evelina found us when the darkspawn came, when our parents died. She made sure we got to Kirkwall safely."

The younger boy peeked out from behind the older one. "I miss her."

"But when she went to join the Circle here, they called her apostate for leaving the tower in Ferelden. They locked her up." Walter shook his head.

"Don't you have any other family?" There were still many refugees in Kirkwall.

"Everyone died in the Blight. Evelina kept picking us up, new children every day, every one she could save."

"Do the templars know you're here?"

"They don't care. They only want Evelina."

They likely never gave the boys a thought. He'd have a word with a few of them. "Didn't she want to stay free, with you?"

"She didn't want us to be stuck in Darktown." Walter's shoulders drooped. "She wanted to give us a real life. She thought the Circle would help her. But they just locked her away."

"If you tell me where Evelina is, I'll try my best to help her. You can trust me." He could get them all on a ship back to Ferelden. From what he'd heard, the Circle there was Evelina's best bet.

"No one can help her." Walter's voice was quiet.

"The templars made Evelina angry. They made her change…" The younger boy flared. "It wasn't her fault. When it was over, she was ashamed. She ran into the tunnels and hid."

"Shut up, Cricket. Don't tell them that."

Hawke closed his eyes for a moment. She'd changed. Abomination. As much as he wanted to help, it was too late.

"She is in the sewers, child?" Aveline asked.

"You can't go there. She'll know we told you and she'll be angry at us."

"Angry?" Panic showed on Cricket's face. "I didn't like when she got angry. We-we have to hide."

Walter ran after him. "Cricket."

* * *

They caught up with the boys in the sewer tunnel. Hawke strode towards them worriedly. "What are you doing here?"

"I…" Walter squared his shoulders. "I thought if we warned her about you, she wouldn't be angry. But then she—"

A woman's voice floated towards them. "Walter…"

"She's coming. Run." The boys only made it a few steps before sliding to a stop.

The woman stepped out of the shadows. It was the beggar woman. She gestured at the boys. "There you are. Don't run from me, Walter. You know those are the rules."

"I won't let you touch these children," said Hawke unlimbered his staff, and gestured for his companions to spread out.

"You play the hero well, but I see through it. You're Fereldan, like us, but you feast on sweetmeats while your people starve in the Undercity. I spit on you, traitor, and on the pathetic templars that sent you." Her form began to change as she spoke. "Kirkwall should be mine. Then my children will have a whole city to play in."

He put up a barrier around the boys as the demons started to appear, and noted that Aveline moved in to place herself between the children and danger, with Merrill only a step behind her. He focused his spells on the demons and the abomination, as Fenris, Sebastian and Varric backed him up.

There were tears in the eyes of both boys. Walter was shaking his head. Aveline moved to block their view of the dead woman. "I don't understand. Evelina loved us. She saved us. Why would she try to hurt us now?"

"Evelina would never hurt you, child." Hawke kept his voice gentle. "That was a demon. Remember her as she was—a brave, kind, loving woman."

"Pray for her soul, child," said Sebastian. "The Maker may have mercy even now."

"I…" Walter scrubbed at his face with a hand. "I'll try. I just don't know what we'll do now."

"Take this," Hawke pressed five sovereigns into his hand. "And use it wisely."

"Thank you, messere." Walter glanced at Cricket. "I should go buy some food for the others. They've been hungry for a long time."

Hawke blinked, and then looked up at Aveline and Sebastian before looking back at the boys. "How many others?"

* * *

There were eighteen children in his living room, ranging in age from Walter down to a girl no older than seven. She must have been an infant in arms when they left Ferelden. And the scary part was Orana clearly looked as if she wanted to keep all of them. She was passing around cookies and making sure bellies were appropriately stuffed. Anders was tending to various small hurts and sniffles, as Merrill sat cross legged next to the fire, telling a story about mabari hounds and the Dread Wolf to several attentive children and one attentive Runt. Varric and Isabela were teaching another group of kids how to play… he really hoped that wasn't Wicked Grace.

Hawke looked to Sebastian. "Is there anything you can do?"

"I'll talk to Elthina and see what we can do for them," Sebastian assured. He then looked at the children with a sympathetic look. "I can't believe the templars ignored them. Apostate or not Evelina clearly treated them as her own children."

Hawke nodded. "I'll talk to Cullen, maybe he can do something."

Merrill followed him out of the house. A moment later, Varric and Isabela did as well, though those two were more accurately chased out by Aveline. He shrugged, and headed to the de Launcet estate. A butler let him in, and the lady of the house herself came to meet them a few moments later.

* * *

"Good evening, Comtesse," Hawke bowed.

"Oh! The Champion of Kirkwall! This is marvellous. You honour this household," she smiled and led him inside. "I will call for refreshments. Talia!" She let out a long suffering sigh. "She is so slow, this girl. Come, let us chat while we wait."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Comtesse," said Hawke as he sat down. "I need to speak to about Emile."

She looked insulted. "Hospitality? This? Oh, it is a disgrace. If you had just sent a message to say you are coming!" She then sat down and calmed herself. "I haven't seen Emile since he was taken to the Circle. He was just six." Her eyes danced all over nervously. "You can tell the templars not to worry. I'm sure Emile will turn himself in soon. He's a good boy."

He was about to ask her a few more questions when a man entered the room. "Dulci. What have you done? You should have told the boy to throw himself at the mercy of the templars."

"Guillaume, darling…" She tried to cut him off, but he interrupted her again.

"Don't 'darling' me, Dulci. He's been telling people he's our son, that you gave him gold."

"Guilluame, darling…" She swallowed, and flicked her eyes towards Gabriel. "We have guests."

Hawke sighed. "I am your son's best chance for mercy from the templars."

"Mercy? They wouldn't really hurt him, would they?" the Comtesse stared. "Oh, you should've seen his face—it just broke my heart! I gave him some money. Not too much. He said he wanted to start a new life."

"New life?" Comte de Launcet shook his head. "His new life is spent in Lowtown taverns, getting drunk on cheap wine. It's a wonder the templars haven't found him yet." He gave Hawke a beseeching look. "Help us, please, Champion. Emile is not a blood mage, just a foolish boy. Don't let the templars kill him."

"Blood mage? Oh, Guillaume, don't say that." She swayed on her feet.

"Please, save my son's life."

He held up a calming hand. "If there is a way to help Emile, I will find it."

"Thank you, Champion. An acquaintance spied Emile in the Hanged Man not long ago. He should still be there."

"The Hanged Man?" She laid the back of her hand on her forehead and swayed some more. "Oh, but that place is filthy."

"Come, Dulci. Perhaps you should lie down." He ushered his wife out of the room, leaving Hawke standing there with his companions.

"Oh. But the Hanged Man is so filthy." Varric did a fair imitation of the comtesse before chuckling.

Isabela just shook her head. "They are so Orlesian."

* * *

They met Anders on the way to the Hanged Man. Since Hawke's position gave his friends some level of protection, it wasn't all that unusual for Anders to actually walk through Hightown openly. Privately, Hawke thought Anders rather enjoyed scandalising the neighbors. It was something they had in common.

He looked around the Hanged Man as they entered. There was the usual crowd. And a man in rather outlandish clothing passed out on one of the tables. He sighed, and walked over. "Emile de Launcet?"

The man looked up at him with bleary eyes. "Hey. How'd you know my name? Did Nella tell you?" Emile glanced at a woman at the bar before looking back at him. "I gave her my Launcet signet ring in exchange for a kiss, and tonight, she's going to make me a man."

Isabela elbowed Hawke. "This is what lack of sex does to a person. I can only watch in horror."

Anders sighed. "He's lived in the Circle all his life. He can't function in the real world."

Varric pinched the bridge of his nose. "The comte was right. How did the templars miss him?" Hawke sighed. Probably because they were looking for a dangerous apostate.

Emile gestured at the bartender, who ignored him. "Round of drinks on me? I'm Emile, as you know. And you are…?"

It was possible smuggling this man out of Kirkwall was also a bad idea. Especially if this was his idea of 'laying low'. "They call me the Champion of Kirkwall. I been looking for you Emile."

"Oh, buggery." Emile stood up, nearly tripping on his chair in the process. "I know what this is about. I…" He shook his head frantically. "I'm not a blood mage, all right? I, uh, started that rumour because…" He shrugged helplessly. "Because I thought it would make me sound dangerous and…" The man gave what he clearly thought was a smooth smile. It made Isabela actually snort the drink she'd just swiped out of her nose. "Suave."

"Do you have a death wish?" Anders stared at the man in disbelief. "You grew up in the Circle, you know what the templars do to blood mages."

"I've only told people in the tavern. And only women." Emile gestured. "You don't understand. I've been in the Circle since I was six. Six. For twenty years I was locked up. Never had a real drink, or… or cooked something for myself." He spread his hands, and his voice became dreamy. "Never stood in the rain, or kissed a girl…"

Anders shrugged. "The Ferelden Circle's more fun. Everyone was kissing everyone." He considered a moment, and then continued thoughtfully. "Though that was before the abominations."

Hawke sighed, and then looked back at Emile.

"I just wanted to live a little…" Emile said. He sighed. "If you're going to kill me, do it. I'd rather die drunk."

Hawke shook his head. "Did you really escape the Circle so you could kiss a girl?"

"Well, not just that. I've read so much about the other things you can do with girls."

Hawke glared at him. "You can't run," he said to Emile. "The templars will find you eventually."

"I…" Emile lowered his voice conspiratorially. Or he tried to. It was possible they couldn't actually hear him in the Gallows. "I'll make you a deal, all right? Give me one night. Just one night." He looked back at the girl by the bar. "One of the tavern girls, Nella, agreed to lie with me. I even paid for a room." He was practically begging. "Please… let me have this. You can take me back in chains after."

He sighed. "I'll wait here till you're ready to go back to the Circle."

"Thank you!"

He walked towards the table as Emile went upstairs with Nella. "Deal the cards," he said to Varric.

* * *

At least Emile considered the experience worth potentially being made tranquil or executed. He headed in to report to Meredith. She turned towards him as he entered her office. "I'm led to believe that both Huon and Evelina are dead. Unfortunate but necessary." She folded her arms. "Emile de Launcet, however, turned himself in. Rather happily, I might add. I would have had him executed immediately, but the boy's father made an impassioned appeal on his behalf." She raised an eyebrow at him. "What say you, Champion? Do you believe Emile to be dangerous?"

He sighed, and rubbed a hand across his forehead. "He was never a danger to anyone but himself."

She stared at him for a moment. "Very well, Emile will keep his life, though I will watch him closely."

Hawke shook his head at her. "Look at the way you treat the mages. Is it any wonder they're so desperate?"

Meredith rubbed her forehead as if he had a massive headache. "I have heard this argument often."

"And it's not worth considering?" Aveline asked raising an eyebrow.

Anders narrowed his eyes at Meredith. "Maybe if you never took Huon from his wife, she wouldn't be dead! Evelina could be alive, and with the children she risked everything to save."

Meredith turned her back to them and placed a hand on her desk. "There are maybes enough to fill half the graves in Kirkwall. I will not add to the pile." She then narrowed her eyes to Hawke. "I bid you good day, Champion."

Hawke shook his head, he understood the dangers of magic better than anyone, but oppressing every mages is not the way to maintain peace. Surely there has to be a compromise between the two factions.

* * *

Cullen nodded. "Champion, what can I do for you?"

"Actually, this is more something we can do for each other. You mentioned, a few years ago, that the templars are always in need of recruits."

"We are." Cullen smiled. "Though I don't know that you are exactly templar material."

"Evelina was protecting some children," Hawke said.

Immediately, Cullen's face went from smiling to concerned. "Are they alright? Were any of them hurt?"

"No. They are fine. But…" He sighed. "Evelina came to the Circle in order to give them a better life, but instead she was locked up like a criminal and the children were ignored."

Cullen's eyes widened. "I did not know of this, we we're told that she was an apostate fleeing the Circle in Ferelden."

"Who told you this?" Hawke frowned.

Cullen closed his eyes. "Karras."

Hawke nodded, he wasn't surprised that it was him that caused this mess. "I know that templars sometimes take recruits young and I was hoping that you could help with giving them shelter. They know the dangers that mages face, but also know that mages can be good, decent, loving people. Sounds like…"

"Like exactly who we need as templars," Cullen nodded. "Where are they now?"

"Sebastian took them to the Chantry."

"I'll come by this evening and speak with them."

* * *

"The Champion was playing both sides." Cassandra folded her arms. "That does make more sense."

"Getting good mages out, while working with the templars to deal with those that trafficked with demons." Leliana nodded. "And ensuring those that truly needed the protection of the Circle were protected. It makes sense. And it appears that he provided some moderating influence on Meredith."

"She certainly does not seem unreasonable as some of the stories claim."

"We already know Cullen's version of the tale, Cassandra."

Cassandra nodded. "We do indeed. I wonder if any of these children were among the templars that followed him from Kirkwall when he joined the Inquisition."

"All things considered, it seems unlikely Cullen would want to leave them, and some of those who accompanied him were on the young side."


	37. Haunted

Hawke made his way to the Chantry to see how the children he rescued were doing. When he got there he found Sebastian and Aveline arguing and apparently the discussion was about him.

"Hawke should do it. Kirkwall needs a viscount," said Sebastian.

"Have you asked him?" Aveline asked. "It would be Hawke's decision."

"I watch my parents in Starkhaven. When times are good, the city rules itself. Years could pass and no one notices who's prince." He then gave her grim look. "But when there's famine, when there's war, people look to their leaders. Who does Kirkwall have beyond Hawke?"

Aveline then noticed Hawke approaching them. "This is probably a discussion for the two of you to have."

"You want me to be viscount?" Hawke stared.

"Andraste said, 'the Maker is king of the heavens, but it is the Kings of Thedas who must recreate His worldly glory'." He then looked a Hawke. "I keep thinking about that. Who better serves the Maker: a brother of the faith, or a prince who can sway a whole city?"

Hawke realised he was talking about himself and not him. "The best ways to serve the Maker is in his Chantry."

"Starkhaven needs me. But I will not leave Elthina to the mercy of these apostates. We must put down this rebellion and solidify the Chantry's hold. Then I can return to Starkhaven with a clear conscience."

"You can't leave until the grand cleric is out of danger," Hawke nodded.

"And the only way to ensure that is if every mage in Kirkwall is locked away safely in the Circle. Or Dead." He crossed his arms. "I might have questioned that once. But I've learned a lot from you, Hawke. If you lack of a true heart, in a noble cause, it doesn't matter what it takes to succeed."

Hawke nodded. "Did Cullen take the children to the Gallows?"

"He did, and I hope they find peace there. The situation between the templars and mages has not gone well and still Elthina does nothing. Waiting for a sign of the Maker is all well and good, but sometimes you have to take action in order to prevent a war."

Hawke couldn't agree more, hopefully they could prevent a war.

* * *

A letter from a panicked father asking him to save his daughter who is located at the coast. He hadn't gone far when Evets showed up complaining about Hawke killing all his men some time back. The man was in the process of swearing revenge and dire fates when Varric shot him in the throat. He glanced at the dwarf.

"What?" Varric asked. "You were going to do that, right?"

"Yes, but I was going to do it with more style."

Varric caressed the crossbow. "Don't worry, sweetheart, he didn't mean it."

"You do realise there are more of them?" Sebastian asked.

At least a third of the remaining bandits appeared to have found something better to do with their afternoon. The rest appeared confused. Hawke reached for his staff, and they started to run.

"Come to me," Isabela said in a low, sultry voice. "And I'll take you to places you've never been…"

"Isabela…" Varric stared. "Are you talking to Bianca?"

Isabela let her fingers trail over the crossbow lightly. "I think she deserves to feel a woman's touch on her trigger, don't you?"

"Bianca responds to my touch." Varric shook his head. "She'd never give it up for you."

"That's what they always say." Isabela batted her eyes. "And I always prove them wrong."

"Stop it. You're confusing her. And me."

* * *

Someone had rescued the girl before they'd arrived. She saw them and smiled. "You, there. Did my love send you? Will you take me to him?"

Hawke shook his head and looked around at the bodies. From the looks of things, the bandits had killed each other. "I came from your father's request. You expected someone else?"

"Feynriel, the man of my dreams." She was all but gushing. "These brutes intended to take my maidenhood. As they argued about who would go first, I fainted. Then Feynriel spoke to me in a vision and told me not to fear. When I awoke, the men had slain one another. Please take me to Feynriel. I want to thank him properly."

He exchanged a somewhat wide-eyed look with his companions. "I'm sorry, but I have no way to locate him." According to the last letter he'd received, the man was in Tevinter.

A few more bandits found them, and made the mistake of drawing their weapons.

The young woman shrugged when it was over, and started walking. "It seems I must wait a bit longer for my love." She sighed. "Thank you for your aid. I will find my way back to Kirkwall. The walk will tire me, and we'll be reunited in my dreams. Feynriel my love—I'm coming."

It was clear to Hawke that he was going to have to write a letter to Tevinter.

* * *

Varric was pacing the entry when he got home. "Got a minute, Hawke?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I know this is ancient history, but remember that Hightown house Bartrand barricaded himself in? Bartrand doesn't exactly need the place, now that he's in the sanitarium. I've been trying to sell it."

"I assume there's not much interest in it."

"No. There's a real number of people who want expensive, blood-covered houses in Hightown. I found a minor noble in Rivain who bought the place sight unseen. But now there's a problem. They say the place is…" He gave Hawke a concerned look. "Haunted."

"Bartrand's atrocities must have weakened the barrier between this world and the Fade."

"Maker, I hope not," said Varric as he paced around some more. "I don't think I can fix the Veil through applied use of force. They've noticed some minor problems: Voices whispering in the walls, apparitions, things moving on their own. My hope is it's a relic Bartrand brought back from the Deep Roads. We smash it, and the haunting stops."

"What happens if we do nothing?" Hawke asked.

"Best case? They drag me before the seneschal and accuse me of fraud. The worst case involves Antivan Crows."

Considering their last encounter with the Crows, Hawke thought Varric might just have that backwards. "I'm not an expert on hauntings, but what if smashing something does not make the problem go away?"

"Ah…" Varric shrugged. "That's where things get tricky. You're a mage. You must know something about…" He gestured absently. "Weird shit. I'm sure you'll be able to figure something out that will help."

"Very well. We'll investigate the mansion. Again."

"Thanks, Hawke. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

* * *

They entered the estate at once Varric started to act funny.

"Hey… is that music? Where is that coming from?"

Hawke gave Varric a concerned look. "I don't hear anything."

They hadn't gone much further when a vase picked itself up off a table and smashed onto the floor.

"Something in this house is restless," Fenris said.

"I guess the buyer wasn't kidding." Varric kept touching Bianca as if reassuring himself the crossbow was still there.

They kept walking. Merrill let out a squeal as a pile of books threw themselves into her path. "Hello? Messere ghost? Would you stop that, please?"

"I can barely hear it," Varric muttered. "I wish I could make out the words." He strode into a room, and shook his head. "Look at this: my brother's junk was left here. You wouldn't know it, but Bartrand was a sentimentalist. This came from our estate in Orzammar. When I was seven, I knocked over one of Mother's plates and broke it. My brother yelled at me for an hour." Varric rubbed the back of his neck. "'This was made by the artisans of House Saldras. The clay was from the Aedros Atuna river, which never sees the sun.'"

"There's no way you're talking about the same Bartrand that I met." That man hadn't a sentimental bone in his body. He'd left his own brother to die for a chance at more gold.

"Maker's truth. There were tears in his eyes. I never thought that was possible before. That stupid plate was the whole city of Orzammar to him."

* * *

"What is going on here? There's no way the Veil could be torn this badly," said Anders as they watched spectres running past them screaming.

Varric suddenly turned towards him. "This isn't being caused by some random artifact. The idol is still in the house, Hawke. It has to be."

Hawke nodded, and started walking deeper into the mansion. He hadn't gone far when a vase threw itself at him. It shattered on his breastplate, sending shards everywhere. "Whatever is here is angry," Fenris said.

* * *

A young woman emerged from where she'd been hiding behind the curtains. "Are you real? You've got to get out of here before it comes back."

Hawke was about to reassure here when Varric stepped forward. "Where's the idol?"

She gave him a confused look. "What idol?"

"Don't waste my time with your lies." Varric actually reached for his crossbow.""Tell me where it is."

Hawke caught Varric's hand. "I didn't exactly want to stay for dinner, but I think we've got a few minutes to hear her out."

"She's hiding something, Hawke." He tried to pull free. "Don't lie to me. I know it's here. You must have found it."

"I swear." She held her hands up in front of herself defensively. "I don't' know anything about an idol. Please." There was a strange humming noise. "Maker, no. It's starting again." She fled the room.

Varric started to follow, and Fenris moved to block his path. Hawke was about to ask Varric what was going on when they heard the woman scream.

* * *

"Uh oh…" Varric stared at what appeared to be a golem. The golem was translucent, almost like a spirit.

Hawke sent a blast of lightning at it. Next to him, Merrill and Anders hit it with a blast of fire. Fenris moved forward, flames erupting on his sword as Hawke cast the spell. Varric fired Bianca.

The golem vanished, to be replaced by a ball of strange light. Hawke threw up a barrier just as the light exploded into a wave of electricity. He dimly heard Varric yelp. It took several more spells, combined with Fenris's blade and Bianca before the thing stopped moving.

A small piece of glowing red something fell to the ground as the golem vanished. Varric walked over and picked it up. "This… this is a piece of the idol." He shook his head. "I should have known Bartrand would lie to me. Of course he'd keep a piece of the statue for himself. Think of what we could do with this."

A piece of the thing had done everything they'd seen in the house. And the idol itself… what it had done to Bartrand. He didn't particularly want to think about it. "Varric, you've been acting strangely ever since we arrived. I don't think you want to keep that shard."

"I know you're just trying to look out for me, Hawke, but I can handle this! It's not the whole idol, it's just a sliver!" He gestured dramatically. "I need this thing. Six years of my life have gone into this." He paced a few steps. "The shard is my only hope of curing Bartrand. It's my only chance to set any of this right."

"And… there we go again. The thing's magic seems only more potent when broken," said Anders.

"The shard is my only hope of curing Bartrand. It's my only chance to set any of this right."

Hawke looked to Merrill and saw the worry in her Merrill eyes. "Listen to yourself, Varric! It's already controlling you! You have to let it go!"

"You're not listening, Hawke." Varric spread his hands. "I know I can handle this shard."

"I'm worried, Varric. You begin to sound exactly like Bartrand."

"Fine. I don't really want to argue about this anyway." Varric shoved it at him, and he wrapped it carefully in a cloth rather than touch it. "Take it. It's your problem now. Maybe 'Enchantment' boy can dispose of the thing for you."

"That was the right decision, Hawke," said Anders. "You've saved him great pain."

Varric sighed. "Let's go. I… think I could use some air."

* * *

He had Merrill take Varric into one of the guest rooms, and then gestured at Sandal. He set the wrapped fragment down, and then pulled the wrapping away to reveal it. "Think you can do something with this, Sandal?"

Bodahn's eyes widened. "Is that… lyrium? I've never seen anything like that."

"It's dangerous. Varric suggested Sandal might be able to dispose of it."

The older dwarf put a hand on Sandal's shoulder and smiled proudly. "I think my boy can do better than that."

"Ooh…" Sandal said. "Enchantment."

* * *

He found Varric sitting at the table the next morning. Orana was moving around the kitchen, fixing breakfast. Varric gave him an abashed expression. "Listen, Hawke. I don't know what came over me back there in Bartrand's house. I'm glad you're watching my back."

"That's what I'm here for." He smiled as Merrill joined them. "That, and doing all the fighting."

"You know what I like about you, Hawke?" Varric accepted the cup of tea from Orana. "Your humility."

Hawke accepted the plate Orana gave him. "Thank you, Orana?"

"You're welcome, Master."

"Well, I'll say it again. And don't call me master."

She smiled at him. "Yes master."

* * *

Aveline folded her hand. "Why are you still here, Varric?"

Varric threw in his bet. "Starkhaven's too pretentious for me and Cumberland's too boring."

"You always say you hate commitment, but here you are, six years later, still at Hawke's side."

He showed his cards, to the vexation of Isabela, and swept up his winnings. "Aveline, I thought you'd have noticed by now: I lie a lot." He took the cards, and dealt the next hand.

Merrill looked at her cards, then looked over them at Varric. "How do you do it, living in the city without picking a side? Doesn't it matter to you?"

"Of course it does." He tossed in his bet. "That's why I don't take sides."

She put in some coins of her own. "That doesn't make any sense."

He gestured around the table. "I've got you and Aveline, Fenris and Anders. Hawke. Isabela." He shrugged. "I've got friends in the Circle and drinking buddies in the templars. All of them matter."

"But you're going to fight." She raised. "If it comes to that, I mean."

"I fought my own brother, Daisy." He sighed. "Nobody said this was going to be happy story."

* * *

He glanced in the study to see Merrill asleep, a book still open on her lap, with the title _'Tale of the Wardens'_. He smiled fondly, and then walked into the next room.

Bodahn came to stand next to him. "Things have been very troubling these last few years, haven't they? I, ah…" Bodahn sighed. "I was thinking that it might soon be time for my boy and I to move on."

As much as he'd been waiting to hear that for five years, it still stung. "Back to the merchant's life, I suppose?"

"It's an honour to serve the Champion of Kirkwall, make no mistake, but I'm getting older. It's time to see to Sandal's future. I'll stay on until arrangements are made. I hope that's all right."

Hawke nodded. "If you're worried about Sandel, I can help him out."

Bodahn looked surprised. "Ah, that's mighty kind of you, but it isn't necessary. My boy's been offered a position in Orlais. It seems the empress herself found one of his enchantments and is intrigued. Can you imagine? Us, in the Imperium court!" They turned and looked at the fire. "Hopefully this business with the templars doesn't get worse before we go. I worry about you, messere."

He folded his arms, and continued watching the fire.

* * *

"This Feynriel killed people in their dreams?" Cassandra shook her head. "That has to be an exaggeration."

"There are stories," Leliana said. "And this idol… It must have played a part in what happened."

"I agree."


	38. Gamlen's Greatest Treasure

Isabela was in the mansion, talking to Fenris. "You know, you could go anywhere you like, now."

Fenris nodded curtly. "I'm aware of that."

"Oh." Isabela's eyes brightened. "You could become a raider. You could join my crew."

"What crew?" Fenris raised an eyebrow.

Isabela stood, and put her hands on her hips. "Well, with that attitude, you're never going anywhere, are you?" She sashayed out of the room, deliberately bumping Hawke with her hip as she did so.

Fenris sighed. "She doesn't understand. Yes, I am free. Danarius is dead. Yet… it doesn't feel like it should."

"You thought killing him would solve everything, but it doesn't." Hawke took the seat Isabela had vacated.

"I suppose not." Fenris was staring at his hands contemplatively. "I thought if I didn't need to run and fight to stay alive, I would finally be able to live as a free man does. But how is that?" He leaned back. "My sister is gone, and I have nothing—not even an enemy."

"Maybe that just means there's nothing holding you back."

"Hmm. An interesting thought. It's just…" He sighed apologetically. "Difficult to overlook the stain that magic has left on my life. If I seem bitter, it's not without cause. Perhaps it is time to move forward. I just don't know where that leads." He looked up at Hawke. "Do you?"

"Nobody knows the future Fenris."

"The future of a slave is never uncertain," said Fenris looking at his hands. "But I'm no longer slave. Perhaps it's time I remember that." He then got up. "Thank you, Hawke. I would never have thought to call a mage a friend, yet he you are. Where are the future leads, I hope it is at your side."

* * *

Inside the clinic, Anders was arguing with a very annoyed looking Aveline. "You think I don't know the city guard is just another arm of the templars?"

Aveline folded her arms. "That is completely unfair."

"If they show up here, I'll know who to blame. That's all I'm saying."

Aveline glared at the man before stalking out, shooting Hawke a look as she did so. He just shrugged.

Anders gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to see that. I just…" He sighed. "Can't be too careful. Now that the knight-commander has basically appointed herself viscount."

The guards had known Anders was a mage for years. No few of them came to him regularly for the injuries incurred by their duties, and he knew for a fact both Brennan and Maecon had lied to templars to protect the healer. "Between ruling the city and torturing mages, it's a wonder she has time to keep that sword so shiny."

"She has nearly crushed the flame of hope for mages here. The mage underground is all but destroyed. And those left have turned to blood magic as their only option. Which Meredith knows will prevent any chance of the public taking their side." Anders sat down heavily on a crate.

Hawke took the crate across from him. "You don't think that kind of proves her point?"

"The Blight was stopped only with the aid of mages, one an apostate." He shook his head. "One your cousin. But it makes no difference. The Chantry set us all on this path long ago. It would take something truly catastrophic to change people's thinking now."

"No one has come for you, right?"

"I'm a known friend of the Champion." Anders smiled. "And the last time the coterie came sniffing around they were chased out of Darktown by my patients.

* * *

A Qunari was waiting at his estate, he said that he was Taarbas and the he was looking for Qunari blades. Fortunately, Hawke found quite a few of them.

Taarbas took the bundle of swords and counted them. In gratitude he told him he would make a fine Ben-Hassrath and presented him with a Qunari style longsword.

He then went to take care of Gamlen's latest debt collector. Originally, he'd just been intending to pay the man off, but the idiot had started with the insinuations and threats. When one of those threats had involved slavers, well, according to Aveline it was technically a suicide. He paid a visit to the man himself.

Gamlen actually smiled. "So you've done well for yourself. I had my doubts the first time I saw you, but…" Gamlen shrugged. "I guess there was something to that Hawke fellow Leandra ran off with after all. He made a pretty good son, anyway. Your mother would be proud."

"I just wish Mother had lived to me become Champion," said Hawke.

"I know Leandra, and she'd be absolutely glowing from all the praise is that's been heaped on you. I don't say this often, but… We're the only family we've both got left. For a long time, I thought the Amell line in Kirkwall would end at me. I'm glad you've pulled it out of the grave."

He was about to leave when he noticed a letter on the table. He didn't actually mean to read the letter, it just caught his eye as he was taking a few coins from his purse to leave. Gamlen folded his arms defensively. "Leave that alone. There are things in my life that don't actually involve you, you know. Stay out of my business, boy."

The last time the man had automatically jumped to defensive over a document he hadn't wanted Hawke to read… "That note mentioned the Gem of Keroshek. What's that?"

"It's nothing. Never mind."

"If you're worried about who sent the note, I can go in your place," Hawke suggested.

"Did I ask for that? I know who sent it, and I want to. I lost everything chasing that gem…" Gamlen shook his head. "Our fortune, our home, even Mara."

"Who's Mara?"

"She's…" Gamlen's eyes narrowed. "None of your concern, that's who she is." Gamlen glared. "Why don't you head back to your fancy house in Hightown and stay out of my damned business?"

Despite his wishes, Hawke decided to find out who would send that note to Gamlen.

* * *

A large group of armed thugs standing around Darktown. This looked like the place. "Are you the ones who sent the note about the Gem of Keroshek?"

"We were beginning to think you wouldn't show. It's rude to keep people waiting, you know. It's not like I don't got things to do."

"I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I don't know you," said Hawke.

"You don't got to know me. You just got to listen. See, we was hired to give you a note. But this Gem of Keroshek thing the note talks about? We decided we want that instead. You better hand it over."

Hawke shook his head. "I was told to come here to get the gem. Why do you think I would have it?"

"You have it, or you can take us to who does. That's what I think. We aren't going anywhere without that gem." The man signalled his friends to attack.

A few moments later, Hawke was riffling through the dead man's pockets. He found another note, and read it aloud.

"Isn't there a mallet hanging on the wall in Gamlen's house?" Varric asked.

* * *

Gamlen glared. "What do you want now?"

"I found this node on a thug that attacked me. It mentions your wallet mallet."

"Huh." Gamlen actually smiled. "Haven't played wallop since I was a kid. Still got my mallet up on the wall, though. Last time I was any good at something."

* * *

Varric stared up at the alienage tree. "Well, we found the tree the wallop mallet's made from. Now what?"

An elf walked over. "Wallop mallet? You must be the one I'm supposed to give this note to." He handed Hawke a slip of paper.

"Did someone ask you to give this to me?" Hawke asked taking the note.

The elf shrugged. "I was given a few coins to hand this over to whoever came asking about wallop mallets. Unfortunately, the person was hooded, and it was dark. I didn't get a good look. Obviously a human though. No mistaking that. Even hooded, you all look alike."

Hawke tossed him a silver, and then read the note to his companions.

"Oh! To warehouse next! It's like a treasure hunt!" said Merrill.

* * *

"Looks like we found the crates," said Aveline.

Hawke narrowed his eyes. "Something seems off…" His eyes widened. "It's a trap."

The mercenaries that attacked clearly had no idea what they were in for. As soon as he and Merrill started slinging spells, four of the mercenaries fled by jumping into the water and swimming for it.

He searched the body of their apparent leader, and found another note. Again, he read it aloud. Varric ran a hand over his face and shook his head. "I'm surprised they sent so many men just to capture someone like Gamlen."

Hawke shook his head. "It's time to end this charade."

"I should be getting back to the clinic," Anders said as he left. "Let me know how it turns out?"

* * *

A young woman was waiting in the cavern. Hawke blinked. For a moment, he thought it was Bethany standing there. The woman gave him a disappointed headshake. "So Gamlen couldn't even be bothered to come himself?" She sighed. "I should have expected he'd send you, Cousin."

Merrill stared at Hawke. "You never told me you had a cousin!"

"I have a cousin?" Hawke stared. Well, he knew he had a cousin, but he knew he was definitely not a she.

"Gamlen never told you? I…" She shook her head. "Of course he didn't. Why would he?"

He was about to ask more questions when armed men showed up. "Sorry to interrupt this touching family reunion, but we have unfinished business here."

"Veld?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Mekel is dead. That bastard killed him." Veld pointed at Hawke.

"I don't know who you are, but we can talk about this."

"Talk about this?" he glared. "Like you talk to my brother before you cut him down?"

"That doesn't make sense." His new alleged cousin raised an eyebrow. "Mekel was just supposed to hand over the note."

"You really think we didn't read it? We know about the gem, Charade. Hand it over. I won't let Mekel's death be for nothing."

Charade pointed at Hawke. "You let your brother go up against someone like Hawke for a stupid gem?" She shook her head. "You know what: I did find the gem, but you're not getting your pathetic little hands on it, Veld."

"Fine. We'll do this the hard way." Veld signalled his men.

They drew weapons on his new cousin. At once he moved to defend his cousin, he was still wiping his head around that and eventually they put down the attackers.

Charade smiled. "You're pretty useful in a fight. You don't take after Gamlen at all."

"Gamlen never told me he had a daughter," Hawke frowned.

"There's probably a lot of things he hasn't told you." She sighed. "My mother, Mara…" She gestured. "She left Gamlen before I was born. He was so fixated on finding that stupid gem, I doubt he even noticed she was gone. She told me about Gamlen before she died last year. I didn't even know about him."

So this was her way of trying to get to know her father. "You set this whole thing up just so you can eat your father?" She really did look like Bethany. Lighter hair, certainly, but worn similarly.

"I just wanted to see—I don't know—how far he'd go for something he really wanted. And then he doesn't even show up. I baited him with the one thing I thought would get his attention."

"He's got some good qualities," said Hawke. "You might be surprised."

"Really?" Charade looked hopeful. "What do you think I should do?"

"I think you should go talk to Gamlen. Does he even know about you?"

"I…" She examined her hands. "I'm not sure."

"I wouldn't throw away the chance if I were you," said Aveline.

"Maybe give him a chance before you write him off," Hawke advised.

"I think I will." She smiled at him. "Having a cousin turned out to be a good thing. Maybe having a father will, too."

"Come on. We'll take you to him."

* * *

"You got to realise this is kind of new to me." Gamlen kept fidgeting, picking things up off the table and fiddling with them before putting them back down. "I didn't know Mara had a baby. If I did, I would have—I don't know—gone after her or something."

Charade smiled. "She used to say I was so much like you, and I didn't even know who you were." She did some fidgeting of her own. "I guess I wanted to see for myself. I need some time to think about all this, but…" She gave him a hopeful look. "If it's all right, I'd like to come back and talk more."

A genuine smile came to Gamlen's face. "I think I'd like that." As she started to walk away, he nearly tripped over a chair coming to open the door for her. "Uh… keep… uh… safe?" He stood there for a few moments.

"Looks like you two had a good talk," said Hawke.

Gamlen actually jumped at the sound of Hawke's voice. "It was bloody awkward, that's what."

"I was worried she wouldn't come find you. I think you needed each other."

"You know, I may not say this very often, but I'm glad you're one of the family. But seriously, next time? Stay out of my damned business, boy."

Hawke knew that was the closest thing to thank you he was going to get and left.

* * *

Cassandra sighed. "And the Champion has another cousin. Does Daylen know?"

"Probably not," said Leliana. "There has been no trace of him for years, it's like he's disappeared of the face of Thedas. Even Theron was unable to tracking down."


	39. Justice

Anders walked towards him when he entered the clinic, then gestured to a corner where they could talk privately. "I'm going to be trying something, and I thought you'd want to be part of it. You were right. What I did with Justice was unnatural. It should never have happened."

"I'm glad you finally understand that."

"I can't help mages like this. Not while I am everything the templars fear about magic. I need to be free of this curse."

"You know I'll do anything I can."

"Your patience with me… I marvelled every day that you haven't thrown up your hands and left. I've spent the past three years researching the methods of Tevinter magisters. They're the only ones who have ever sought to reverse spirit possession, not just behead the victims." Anders gestured. "I believe I have a formula for a potion that can separate Justice and me. Without killing either. "

That sounded promising. "Is it dangerous?"

"There are always dangers with magic." Anders shrugged. "But I believe this will be worth the cost."

Hawke nodded. "Surely that's worth any risk it entails."

"I knew you'd stand behind me in this. Even if…" Anders trailed off.

"What?" Hawke raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing. I've gathered most of what I need, but there are some… outlandish ingredients I was hoping you'd help me collect. A powder the Tevinters call _'sela petrae_ ,' and a small amount of drakestone."

"Is it just a potion?" If there was something that could reverse possession, you'd think they'd be stocking it at every tavern from here to Seheron. It occurred to him that it was likely dangerous. "Is there anything more to this ritual?"

"No, no ritual." Anders shook his head. "Just mix the ingredients up and… boom. Justice and I are free. And we can take our rightful place among free mages."

"What is drakestone?"

"The Tevinters used to mine it for their apothecaries. There should still be deposits in the Bone Pit."

Good thing he'd taken care of the dragon problem. "Where would we find _sela petrae_?"

Anders hesitated a moment. "It's a crystal that forms from concentrated manure and urine.""

"Ew. We can't just…" He wrinkled his nose. "Buy it somewhere?"

"It's not used by mages here. There's no reason for any merchant to stock it. I suggest we search the sewers. There's an entrance not far from here in Darktown."

"I assure you, we'll find them."

"I could not have begun to do this without your support."

* * *

"Hawke…" Varric glanced up as Hawke entered his room in the Hanged Man. "This is awkward."

"You?" He raised an eyebrow. "At a loss for words? I should mark this day on my calendar."

"Enjoy this while it lasts. It might never happen again." He shrugged. "Look, I just want to say, it has been an honour knowing you."

"Are you about to die?" Hawke's eyes widened. "Am I? Why so serious all of a sudden?"

"Don't panic. I just needed to get that off my chest." He shook his head. "You know it's six years today? Six years since I found you dragging your tail out of Bartrand's office. Here's to whatever comes next."

* * *

Anders was waiting for them at the sewer entrance. "We can enter the sewers from here to look for the _sela petrae_. Are you ready?"

Hawke nodded. "Let's go."

"Hold your nose. We'll have to get pretty close for me to tell what we're looking at."

* * *

They hadn't gone far when Anders glanced over at him. "I know it isn't my place to criticise, but…" Anders shrugged. "Are you sure about Merrill? She acts sweet, but you never pick you over her demon."

Hawke narrowed his eyes. It was a bit hypocritical of Anders to discuss about demons when he himself was possessed. "Merrill loves me."

"What right do you have to question us?" Merrill glared. "Is your just as any different?"

Anders crossed his arms. "Yes. Keep your illusions, then. Maker knows I won't be the one to change them."

They continued walking through the sewers until they found the _sela petrae_. He was surprised by just how much of the stuff Anders collected. Maybe it had to be distilled or something.

* * *

The Bone Pit was still a mess. One of these days, he'd have to see about investing into getting it cleaned up. Maybe hire some guards this time. He still wasn't sure why he'd thought taking possession of the place was a good idea. Anders led them to one of the shafts. "We'll have to look for drakestone deposits along the sides."

Again, the man collected a fairly large amount. Hawke narrowed his eyes. There was something going on he didn't like. When they were done, Anders waited until the others were out of earshot, and then said that there was something else needed, but it would take a couple days. And needed to be discussed privately.

* * *

Anders was pacing when he arrived in the clinic. "There is one more thing I would ask of you, Hawke. And I can't tell you why. I must get inside the chantry, without being seen. Will you talk to the grand cleric for me? Distract her long enough for me to do what must be done?"

That didn't sound the least bit foreboding. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"Food? The weather? What does it matter?" Anders gave a jerky shake of his head. "No, talk of mages. Give her one final chance to hear what we have suffered. To pick a side. Perhaps she'll be more inclined to listen to you."

"Tell me your plan." He tilted his head to one side. Final chance?

"You would not thank me if I told you. If you support freedom for mages, help me. That's all I can say."

Hawke started to shake his head. "What is it you don't want me to see?"

"You said you believe in me. Again and again, you have shown your support for mages." Anders gazed at him earnestly. "Then trust me now. I am only doing what is necessary."

"Was this ever about you and Justice?" Hawke straightened to his full height, and squared his shoulders. "Or have you lied this whole time?"

For a moment, Anders stared at him. And then he looked away. "I lied. There is no potion. But what we have gathered will bring freedom for more than just me and Justice. It will help mages throughout Thedas. In the face of that, one lie means little."

"I can't act blindly. Tell me your plan."

"I am taking a risk. I would not see you drawn into it." Anders gestured emphatically. "But maybe your support of mages ends at talk. It's easy to support freedom if no one must die to achieve it. You cannot pretend friendship, then stop now."

"Being a friend doesn't mean I have to agree with your every decision."

"You cannot care for me and despise what I stand for. I am the cause of mages. There is nothing else inside me. Will you aid us now? Or does your support stop at the chantry door?" Anders shook his head.

For a moment, Hawke remained silent and said rather reluctantly, "Tell me what you would have of me, then. But I won't forget you blackmailed me to get it."

"I promise: whatever happens, it's on my head. It will not come back on you. Go to the chantry. Talk to the grand cleric. I will join you when I'm done."

Anders slipped away from him as soon as they entered the Chantry. "I'll find you as soon as I'm done. Thank you."

* * *

"Maker's blessing, Champion. Have you come to pray?" Elthina gave him a warm smile.

"Have you thought about which side you'll take? Between the mages and templars?"

"It's no secret that you count apostates among your friends, Champion. You have done much to fan the flames of rebellion here. We must give Meredith and Orsino time to work out their differences. No good can come of showing favour to one side."

A dozen lifetimes wouldn't be enough to make those two work out their differences. He was starting to think nothing less than Andraste herself could. "The Maker created mages. Why doesn't He protect them?"

"I feel for the mages, I do. I would not wish to be locked in the Gallows. But I cannot take sides. We are all the Maker's creatures, but magic allows abuses beyond the scope of mortals. I can only hope I can balance the needs of everyone. For if it comes to war, it is the people of this city who will lose."

He was still searching for a response when Anders came over to them. "There you are. I've been looking for you all over." He gave Elthina a small bow. "Your Grace."

"Your soul is troubled, child." Elthina's voice was gentle and sad when she looked at Anders. "I hope you found a balm for it here."

* * *

Hawke let several hours pass before heading down to talk to Anders again. He found Anders talking to Varric. "I wanted you to have this."

"What's that, a…" Varric gave him a confused look. "Pillow?"

"Hand-embroidered by my mother. The only thing of hers they let me keep when I went to the Circle."

"Why in the name of Andraste would you give that to me?"

"You've been a good friend, Varric."

"Uh-uh. You keep your pillow, Blondie. And may you have many more dreams of killing templars on it." Varric shook his head, then waved goodbye as he left the clinic.

"Hawke. I…" Anders wouldn't quite meet his eyes. "Didn't expect you here. But…" Anders looked down at his hands before looking back up at him. "Let me take this time to tell you how much I respect you. You've stood by me, when I gave you every reason to turn away. Just remember, whatever happens, I wanted you to know that."

"Why are you talking like this?" Hawke watched the man he had, until recently, considered a good friend. And began to wonder if he actually knew him at all.

Anders stepped out of the clinic, and leaned over the railing that separated Darktown from the view of the bay. "He'll still be here, you know—Justice—long after you and I are gone. It doesn't mean the same thing to a spirit. He'll just go back to the Fade."

"Usually people don't say things like that unless they're about to stab someone in the back." He watched Anders carefully.

"None of this is aimed at you, Hawke. I think I've made that clear. I was hoping we'd find a better way, but…" Anders looked genuinely sorrowful for a moment. "Justice and Vengeance are too intertwined. I can't tell one from the other. You have been a better friend than I ever thought to have." He put a hand on Hawke's shoulder. "Your support has meant the world to me."

* * *

The sun was starting to set when he realised his feet had led him back to the Chantry. With a sigh, he entered. Elthina was talking to some of the mothers. She walked towards him when she'd finished her conversation. "I hope you haven't come to try to talk me into leaving again. Kirkwall needs a steadying hand on its reins, now more than ever. Orsino and the knight-commander grow more fractious by the day." She gave him a concerned look.

He sighed. "There are apostates plotting something against the Chantry." He wished he knew what the plot was.

Elthina raised her hands skyward. "And the sky is blue and the rains come in the spring." She laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's no secret you have close associates who are apostates, Champion. I do not doubt you know of one's plans. But mages have threatened me before. I cannot turn on my templars, on the very words of Andraste, for fear. No matter how justified that fear might be." She patted his shoulder, and then walked away.

He sighed, and caught Sebastian's eye. "Hawke?"

"I don't know." Hawke shook his head.

"But you think Elthina is a target?"

"I know she is. I just don't know what, exactly, she's the target of." Hawke sighed. "Perhaps nothing. Perhaps everything."

"You watch yourself as well, Hawke."

"Do you think I could do it?"

"Do…" Sebastian's eyes widened. "You are thinking of taking the Viscount's job?"

"With a second hand on the reins…" Hawke looked in the direction Elthina had gone. "Maybe we can stop the cart before it goes over the cliff."

"If anyone could, my friend, it's you."

* * *

"The Champion tried to warn her." Leliana folded her arms.

"I wonder what would have happened if she'd listened." Cassandra shook her head. "He didn't know what Anders intended."

"It appears that way." Leliana sighed. "To be used like that…"

Cassandra examined her hands. "It could have ended differently. Elthina a woman of peace. The Champion a viscount with Meredith's respect…"

"You think they could have stopped the cart from going over the cliff?"

"After listening to Varric's tale?" Cassandra considered her answer for a few moments. Finally, she nodded. "Yes." She sighed. "At the very least, I wish they'd gotten the chance to try."

"Though I don't think his tail has ended, we should listen to see what else transpires."


	40. A New Path

Hawke entered into the Hanged Man for a drink, but then saw Varric and Isabela talking about him and Merrill.

"So, Hawke and Daisy," said Varric placing his tankard to his lips.

"I think they're darling together," said Isabela.

"It's almost too adorable," said Varric. "Well, except for the evil blood magic thing.

"The most evil thing Merrill does most days is pick the flowers out of other people's gardens," said Isabela plating her tankard to her lips.

"I know, I have to bribe most of the gardeners in Hightown to keep it quiet," Varric groaned.

Hawke made a mental note to convince Merrill to wonder in his garden rather than their neighbours.

* * *

Hawke went up to Hightown and met up with Sir Marlein, who had been inspired by Hawke public rebuke to Meredith seizing control of the city. He first went into Lowtown in order to stop some zealot templars from harming innocent who are harbouring mages. Then he took our stash of hidden supplies within Darktown killing several templars and mercenaries doing so.

He then got a message from Sir Marlein asking to protect at a meeting in Lowtown. He got there in time, because one of the nobles had sold them out to the templars, but they were easily defeated by their hand. Sir Marlein promised aid whenever he needed it and he had a feeling that he might need it soon.

* * *

Merrill was pacing back and forth in front of the mirror. "Lethallin, I need to ask you for a favour." She sighed. "I thought the _arulin'holm_ would be the last thing I needed, but the _eluvian_ still won't work. I think…" She hesitated. "I think I have to go back to the…" She looked away. "Spirit that helped me at the start of all this."

Spirit. She still prevaricated. "Why do you think this demon will help?"

"He knows about the mirror. I don't know how much. He wouldn't tell me everything, and it's dangerous to trust…" She looked down at her hands. "He said he witnessed its forging. He told me how to cleanse it of its corruption. He must know how to make it work."

He gestured for her to sit, then took the chair across from her. "What do you mean it doesn't work?" He still wasn't sure what it was supposed to do.

"Well…" She gestured. "Look at it. Do you think it's supposed to just sit there and show nothing at all? I can feel the power in it, but it's…" She shrugged. "Like it's asleep. I can't seem to wake it."

"Nothing bad ever comes from summoning demons." He shook his head at her.

"That's why…" She took a deep breath. "Why I need you to come with me. I've called to the spirit, but he doesn't seem to hear. He was sealed in an artifact on Sundermount. I have to look for him there. But…" She inhaled. "If things go wrong…" She looked up at him. "If he possesses me, I need you to strike me down."

He stared at her. "You can't ask me to do that."

She put both of her hands over his fist. " _Ma vhenan_ , please I know it's a lot to ask." She shook her head. "There's no one else here I trust." When he tried to look away she moved to keep eye contact. "Please, _ma vhenan_ … I don't want to do this alone."

Hawke believe he was saying this. "If you're determined to do this, then I'll come with you to make sure nothing goes wrong."

She hugged him. " _Ma serannas_. You've no idea what a relief that is. The demon is sealed in a cave on Sundermount. The sooner we get this over with, the better."

* * *

He told Varric and Sebastian of the situation and they agreed to help. Though he knew that neither them looked forward in killing Merrill.

Varric spent most of the walk to the Sundermount trying to talk Merrill out of her plans. "Does anybody else get the feeling that this is going to end badly? Just me huh?"

"It's not all bad Varric." Merrill tried to give him a cheerful smile. "Think of the stories you'll be able to tell later."

"No offense Daisy, but I could live without telling anyone that we murdered you on some mountain side, it's little hard to made that one sound good."

Hawke sighed. He'd hoped the dwarf's considerable powers of persuasion would succeed where his own had failed. There was one thing left to try. He walked towards the Keeper.

She smiled when she saw Merrill. "Welcome home, _da'len_."

Merrill shook her head. "This isn't a homecoming, Keeper. Why is the clan even here? You should have moved on ages ago."

"The clan still has business here, _da'len_. We will leave when it is time."

"It was time three years ago." Merrill gestured. "You can't stay here. Eventually, the humans will force you to leave."

"There are plenty of hiding places in these mountains. We will stay until my business is done." The Keeper clasped her hands behind her back. "If you are not returning to us, what has brought you back?"

He took a deep breath. "If one of the Dalish becomes an abomination, what do you do?"

"If you are hoping the Dalish hold miracles, child, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Even if the demon is driven out, the soul is left scarred. It can never recover. Not truly. Like a wounded animal, it will fall prey to scavengers. The only cure is death."

How cheerful. "How can Merrill fix the eluvian?"

"I wouldn't restore that cursed thing, even if I could." The Keeper shook her head angrily. "It has stolen lives, brave young souls who were well loved by this clan. And if awakened, it will do far worse."

"No one is pained more by their loss than I, but the mirror wasn't responsible."

"You must come to your senses, Merrill. This evil cannot be allowed in our world."

"It is part of our world. It has been in our world for centuries." Merrill put on her stubborn face. "But I'm wasting my time. You'd rather fear the past than reclaim it. This is pointless, Hawke. Let's go."

All of this would be so much easier if he knew why the mirror was such an issue. If it had been cleansed of the corruption, what was the threat? This appeared to be getting them nowhere. Right now, short of Theron himself coming over the mountain and telling her not to do it, he saw no way to convince Merrill. For a moment, he considered trying to convince Merrill to come back to Kirkwall so he could send a letter to the Wardens. But she was already on her way up the mountain. With a sigh, he followed.

* * *

They soon reached the top of the summit and found a really ugly and creepy statue sitting on an altar. Merrill was shaking her head. "Something is wrong. This is where the spirit was bound. But now, it feels… empty."

"Who bound this demon here and why?" Hawke asked.

"There was a war, long ago. Between my people and the Tevinter Imperium. After the magisters sunk Arlathan, my people made a last stand here, fighting on the graves of our elders. I don't know if it was the Elvhenan or Tevinter who bound the spirit, but he was left here from the war."

He put a hand to his staff. "Maybe it freed itself?"

"It would have taken powerful magic to break him free of this prison." She paced in front of the statue. "You couldn't just set him loose. Nobody could. Not without doing something terrible. This is very wrong."

"How are we going to finish the mirror now?"

"We're done then," said Hawke feeling quite relieved. "Let's get back to Kirkwall."

Merrill turned to him. "No, you don't understand. He couldn't have left this place. Something dreadful had to happen for this cave to be empty."

A footstep came from behind them, scraping against the stone. "I happened." Keeper Marethari descended into the chamber.

"Keeper, what have you done?"

Marethari's face held sorrow. "The demon's plan was always for you to complete the mirror. It would have been a doorway out of this prison and into our world. You would have been his first victim. I couldn't let that happen, _da'len_."

In some ways Hawke was quite relieved, but in others he knew their mission wasn't done. "You stopped it. You saved Merrill."

"Not yet," Marethari said. His blood went cold. "The demon is still here. I couldn't fight it in the Fade while it was trapped. And I couldn't banish it without making it stronger. So I made myself its prison. Kill me, and it dies too. Merrill will finally be safe."

"No. You can't ask…" Merrill covered her face with her hands. "I won't do this."

"You always knew your blood magic had a price, _da'len_. I have chosen to pay it for you." The Keeper smiled gently. " _Dareth shiral_." The demon took over.

Merrill used her staff to fling rocks at the demon. Hawke hit it with a blast of ice. Suddenly, it vanished, and Keeper Marethari was standing there again. She fell forward. "Keeper," Merrill cried out, rushing towards her.

"You've beaten it, _da'len_. You are so much stronger than I imagined. The demon is dead."

"Keeper, I…" Merrill's face was joyful.

"Let's leave this awful place. The clan should hear the good news."

He wanted it to be true. For Merrill's sake. For the clan's sake. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and then gazed at the Keeper. "You told us that the demon was bound to your life. It would only die with you."

Merrill's eyes went wide, and filled with tears. She turned, and drew her dagger. " _Ir abelas_ , Keeper." She cradled the old woman's body as the Keeper fell. "What have you done? I don't want this. I never wanted this. Creators, please let this be a bad dream…" Hawkestepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll wake up and feel like an idiot and she'll scold me for not listening…"

He wanted to comfort her. "You knew consulting with demons was dangerous. You knew people would get hurt, and you did it anyway."

"If there was a price to pay, I should have paid it." She stared up at him angrily. "She had no right to interfere."

"She loved you, Merrill. She wanted to protect you."

"Why couldn't she have believed in me?" She bent her head. "I don't know what to do now." He pulled her to her feet, and into a hug. She clung to him. "I… I should go to the clan. Someone needs to know, needs to come… take care of her."

* * *

Fenarel met them a few steps outside of the cave, several other hunters behind him. "We know the Keeper came here. What's going on? Where is she?"

"Fenarel, the Keeper, she…" Merrill started to cry again.

One of the other hunters gestured. "Look at her, Fenarel. She's covered in blood."

"What have you done, Merrill?" Fenarel walked towards the cave. "Keeper. Can you hear me?"

"She's dead." Merrill choked out the words.

"I should have guessed you'd turn on her, you monster," a hunter said.

Hawke moved to stand between the elves and Merrill. "This was a tragedy. I promise you, I'll make sure no one else is hurt by Merrill's blood magic."

"You expect us to take the word of a shemlen?" The hunter started to reach for her blades.

"Stand down, Ineria." Fenarel's voice was tired. "She was our First, once. The Keeper loved her." He wouldn't look at Merrill. "More than she loved the clan, it seems."

"Fenarel… I'm sorry. I never wanted this. If I could have saved her… if I could have died instead, I would have."

"Words are cheap." Ineria practically spat the words. "That you're still breathing says enough."

"Enough, Ineria." Fenarel met Hawke's eyes. "Human, take Merrill away from here." He gestured, and the other elves followed him.

* * *

"They'll never forgive me. If you weren't here, Hawke, they'd kill me." Merrill sounded broken.

"You need to seek atonement," said Sebastian.

Merrill looked at him with tears in her eyes. "I know I should've died there, not Marethari. Don't you think I feel guilty enough?"

"Guilt isn't a punishment. It's a reminder of the things you haven't set right," said Sebastian calmly. "The only way to shed its burden is to repent with a sincere heart and to rectify your failings."

"But how?" Merrill cried. "The Keeper is dead, my clan lost everything because of me. There's not enough I can do in this lifetime to make up for that."

"It was your pride that led you to the demon. Admitting what you can't do is a good first step."

Hawke was glad that Sebastian had come along with them, Merrill didn't need harsh criticism she needed someone to help her.

* * *

Merrill let them take her back to the estate. Hawke tucked her into before coming back and joining them in the study.

"She took a hell of a beating," Varric sighed.

"Let us just hope it took," Hawke said, staring out into the garden.

"Yeah." Varric helped himself to a bottle. "I know what you mean."

* * *

Cassandra sighed. "No wonder he was quiet all the way back from Kirkwall."

"He contacted Ashalle as soon as we reached Denerim. She made arrangements to help Sabrae clan get back to Ferelden." Leliana sighed. "If Fenarel hadn't been there, hadn't kept a clear head…"

"You think the Champion would have harmed them?"

"If they attacked first, they'd have left him little choice."


	41. Favour and Fault

Merrill was standing in front of the mirror, gazing into the non-existent reflection. "She's gone. She's really gone…"

Hawke found himself glad he'd decided to come check on her. "Merrill?"

She burred her face in his chest. "How did all of this happen?"

He could have answered that in a million ways. Because she didn't listen. Because she was too proud to consider the ramifications of her actions. Because she thought she knew better than anyone. Because the Keeper had tried to keep secrets. Because the Keeper also thought she knew better than anyone. Because a long time ago, she'd lost two of the people who mattered to her most. "I don't think beating yourself up over what happened will bring Marethari back."

"No, but she'd want me to kick myself a few times, at least. All this time, I thought…" She sighed, and pulled away from him. "I could help them. Save them. But they won't let me, will they? They'll destroy themselves to escape my help."

"You couldn't help people who didn't want your help." That particular lesson was one she very much needed to learn. "They might ruin themselves, but I'm sure they'll feel very self-righteous about it."

"They wouldn't be Dalish, otherwise. Maybe…" She folded her arms and leaned on the wall. "Maybe it's time I stopped living for them. My people will kill me if I go back. I'm all alone. What will I do now?"

He gestured at her front door. "There are plenty of elves in Kirkwall who could use your help."

"That's true…" Her eyes lit up. "The Dalish always say we're the only true elves. And I've lived here for years, and never thought…" She laughed softly at herself. "I've barely even looked at them. I feel like such a fool. Thank you."

* * *

"Cullen, what can I do for you?"

"There is a matter regarding…" He sighed. "I've heard a rumour that guard captain Aveline is uh… coddling her men and weakening law enforcement."

Hawke just stared at him as if he was crazy. "Have you met Aveline?"

"I have," Cullen said. "But… in the absence of a viscount, I'm being called to vacate her position and assume her authority. Frankly, I'd rather not have the headache."

"This is going to make her day, but I'll look into these… Allegations."

"Thank you," said Cullen gratefully.

"I haven't seen Thrask in a while. You've been keeping him busy?"

"Not particularly," Cullen said. "Though, with the Knight-Commander being more… strict… of late, perhaps regular card games with a known yet tolerated apostate isn't the wisest pastime."

* * *

There was a templar in Aveline's office, apparently annoying her. "You have no viscount. It's clear you are suffering without…" The templar smirked in a way that made Hawke want to walk over and punch him. "Sufficient leadership."

Aveline folded her arms and glared. "That doesn't grant default authority to you or your commander."

"It would be easier if you cooperated."

"Wouldn't it."

"Guard-Captain." The templar marched out without so much as a nod.

"Trouble?" Hawke asked.

"Yes. He's been hounding me. These templars strut around as it is, but now it's just…" She gestured in frustration. "Out of hand."

This was a conversation he really didn't want to have. He'd never actually seen Aveline set fire to something with her eyes, but he was pretty sure he'd smelled smoke a few times. "Knight-Captain Cullen has heard some troubling things."

"Such as…?"

Hawke took a deep breath. "That you coddle your men. Give them special treatment."

Aveline's eyes narrowed in anger. "Someone… has dared? Who? Who accuses me of this?"

"No names given, of course."

For a moment she just stared at him. Then she shook her head. "No wonder the lieutenant was harassing me." She paced the length of her office. "Bastards. If they think I'm coddling anyone, it'll be my husband, Donnic. You and I will intercept his patrol tonight. Then you can see for yourself if I'm coddling him. Or any in my command."

"I don't have to see proof. I already believe you."

"Of course you do," said Aveline, though her face still glared a bit. "But nobody questions my leadership without a response. Cullen wants to know if these things are true? You'll be able to tell him." She pointed. "Donnic's patrol, Hawke. Me and you. Tonight."

Hawke knew it wasn't a request and nodded.

* * *

They found Donnic patrolling the docks in Lowtown and found him surrounded by bandits. Hawke had to admit that he was surprised that Aveline would allow him to take such a dangerous patrol and if this was Aveline's version of coddling, he hated to see the opposite.

He, Aveline, Varric, Isabela and Anders jumped in to help Donnic in no time they managed to kill all the bandits.

Hawke's hands glowed white as he healed the shallow wound one of the guards had taken. Donnic gave him a small bow. "Serah Hawke. Or is it always 'Champion' now? You're too much of a chameleon, my friend."

He returned the bow. "I didn't expect to find you so…" He glanced around at the corpses. "Deep in bandits."

"A good day, to be sure." Donnic rolled one of his shoulders. "I'll be sore tomorrow, but it was my choice." He glanced from Hawke to Aveline. "Tell me, what's going on?"

"It's all right." Aveline nodded, and then gestured for Donnic to keep talking to Hawke. "Go ahead."

Donnic nodded, and then turned to face him. "Every guard chooses the patrol they want. My wife promotes from the bold, not the reckless. Action is up, casualties are down. It is…" His smile was proud. "Remarkable. As are you, love."

Aveline's cheeks flushed just slightly. "Thank you. That will do."

"Another time, Serah Hawke." Donnic and the other guards gave them slight bows. "Safe travels."

Aveline waited for them to leave. "That should be sufficient. Take that to the templar."

She was acting as if he'd ever doubted her for a minute. The guards dragged him out often enough that he had a pretty good idea of what they faced. "Indeed. Let's go talk to Cullen."

* * *

Cullen looked as if he'd like to hide behind someone. "Champion. And you are with the captain. None too happy about the accusations against her, I'm sure."

"You could say that." She folded her arms and glared.

Hawke gave Cullen a look. "I saw no evidence to support the claims against."

"As I suspected." Cullen gave Aveline an apologetic look.

She shook her head. "Then why press this?"

"Some feel that the solution to the current crisis of leadership is to…" Cullen gestured. "Consolidate authority. As long as these complaints continue, baseless or not, they will serve as justification for eliminating the position of guard captain. It would be the simplest fix, whether or not I agree."

Obviously, this particular problem wasn't just going to go away on its own. He glanced from Cullen to Aveline and back again, and then sighed. "Just point me in the right direction, and I'll get you some peace and quiet."

Cullen gave him a grateful look. "I have no answers for you other than to say that all of the complaints have come from Lowtown."

"Guardsman Brennan is on that patrol. Why wouldn't she tell me of this?"

"I don't know, but…" Cullen ran a hand through his short hair. "I do apologise for the assumptions of this incident, Guard-Captain. It has been…" He shook his head. "Unfortunate."

"It's not done."Aveline gestured. "To Lowtown, Hawke. I need to speak to Brennan."

"I feel sorry for Brennan," said Varric.

* * *

He thought about trying to warn Brennan, but saw no way to do so that wouldn't result in Aveline directing her ire at him.

"Guardsman!" Aveline strode towards Brennan. "Why did a templar have to tell me there is unrest in this district? What's going on?"

Brennan looked very reluctant to answer. "Guardsman?" Hawke questioned.

Brennan sighed. "It's Captain Jeven. I didn't report his return because…" Her shoulders drooped. "I'm ashamed for him. He's trying to rile the guards against you, but none of us will follow him. You lead better than he ever did."

Hawke blinked. He couldn't even recall what Jevan actually looked like. "We've made so many enemies. I don't remember him as that impressive."

"He deserves to be forgotten." Aveline gestured angrily. ""He abused his position, and blamed me when we caught him."

"He was well liked by some," Brennan said. She hastened to add, "but not once the truth was known."

"Where do find him," said Hawke and looked to Brennan. "Guardsman?"

"The guards will have nothing to do with him, so he found others." Brennan gestured. "Militia, mostly anti-Fereldan. The same kind who were against the qunari." She shook her head, and then offered them a pamphlet. "I guess it's been long enough they've forgotten how many the Champion killed."

"A rally." Aveline glanced through the pamphlet. "Against 'the tyranny of the guard, and foreigners who infest Kirkwall'."

"I'm sorry, Captain." Brennan sighed.

Aveline closed her eyes for a moment, and then nodded. "Return to the barracks." She turned to him. "The rally is in Darktown, Hawke. I need to be there."

He waited until Brennan was out of earshot. "You aren't actually angry at Brennan, are you?"

"No. Disappointed, perhaps." Aveline shook her head. "I expected better judgment."

"She's…"

"You don't need to defend her, Hawke. I'm not going to punish her for trying to spare my feelings."

"Ah, good."

"Frankly, if anyone coddles my guards, it's you."

Hawke shrugged. "Well, someone has to."

Aveline just shook her head laughing.

* * *

A murmur went through the crowd as they approached. "The Champion? Here?"

"It's the captain? Are we ready for this?"

The grey-haired man giving a speech at the front of the crowd did look vaguely familiar. "Too long, brave Kirkwall. You did not throw off all others only to fall under Fereldan influence. Leaderless, displaced. Alien hands on the most basic authority. Foreign elite bleeding you."

"Jeven." Aveline's voice quieted crowd and speaker. "You…" She narrowed her eyes. "Disgrace yourself."

Jeven sneered. "The Fereldan with the Orlesian name. Is there anybody else who so embodies how far this city has fallen?"

Hawke gave Aveline a slight bow. "This one is all yours, Captain."

She strode forward, gesturing. "Do they know how you sacrificed your men?" She turned, making sure she had the crowd's full attention. "How you alone disgraced your name?"

"Bitch." Jevan snarled the word. "You took everything from me."

"You took it from yourself." Aveline's voice was cold and firm. "The guard know this, and none stand with you." She turned back to the crowd. "He stands alone. This is no rebellion. It is delusion." She shook her head. "A joke inflicted on Kirkwall. Your home, and mine."

"I will not be left with nothing again." Jeven reached for his weapons.

"No." Aveline drew her own sword. "You shall have less."

Hawke and the others dealt with the crowd while Aveline dealt with Jeven and the very few supporters he had remaining was incidental at best.

"You fool." Aveline stared down that corpse. "Why would you do this? If I live to a hundred, I will never understand his kind." She straightened, and then turned towards him. "To the barracks, Hawke. My guardsmen will be waiting."

* * *

She leaned on her desk. "Jeven. Son of a bitch. You build a good thing, work your hardest, and the past just claws at you."

Hawke had a feeling she was more talking about herself than Jeven. "Jeven failed before he started. You know this."

"I do, and he doomed himself. But it smears all the guard." Aveline sighed. "I wonder what I would do if my captain lost my respect."

He was saved from having to reply by the entrance of Donnic. "Captain? We're waiting for orders."

"Will you accept them?" Her voice was contemplative.

"May I speak freely?" He barely waited for her nod. "There isn't a man or woman here who wouldn't follow you through the Void." He smiled as he bowed. "Captain."

She looked at Hawke as Donnic left the room. "I'll take it. I need a moment, Hawke, but…" She shook her head. "There is something else. Come back and talk to me."

He started to walk away, and then turned back to her. "Just so you know, Captain. What he said includes me." He gave her a bow, and left.

* * *

"The templars should never have involved themselves in the affairs of Kirkwall's nobility," said Cassandra. "It makes us look hypocritical when we deny the mages to rule over themselves. Meredith preventing the election of a viscount is not acceptable and then there's the group of templars that attacked civilians that were just helping their friends and family."

"It is becoming clear that Meredith was squeezing too hard," Leliana agreed. "Theron said that Meredith should used the gentle fist approach, firm but fair. That's how the tower in Ferelden managed to prevent anymore revolts."

Cassandra nodded. "Yes, this story is getting more interesting by the minute and it's clear that we've misjudged the Champion."


	42. Best Served Cold

A message was waiting for him on the front desk. From none other than the King of Ferelden himself. He smiled, and then waylaid Aveline. They arrived in the Viscount's Keep to find Meredith in a heated argument with the King.

"Let me guess: that's your final answer?" King Alistair stood, arms folded, staring at Meredith.

"You declare your Circle of Magi free, as if it's your right to do so, and thus stir up every mage outside your kingdom." Meredith glared. "What other answer did you expect, your Majesty?"

"A 'maybe' might have been nice."

"I do not deal in 'maybes'. I deal in cold, hard facts—as should you." She clenched her fists. "Perhaps when Ferelden next chooses a king, it will be one that takes his duty to the Maker seriously." Meredith stormed off.

"Well. That was awkward." The King shook his head.

"That's just Meredith's idea of Kirkwall hospitality," Hawke said, giving the man a bow.

"Really? Kirkwall brutality must rip the skin off your face, then."

It was then that Hawke noticed two familiar faces standing next to the King, Banns Teagan and Kallian.

"This is the Champion of Kirkwall," said Teagan.

The King held out a hand. "Right. I'm Alistair, uh…" Hawke accepted the handshake. "King of Ferelden."

"Very professional," Kallian muttered.

"That's Kallian, an old friend. And this is Teagan, my uncle. Sort of."

"I'm actually Teagan. I'm only sort of his uncle."

Aveline made a squeaking sound, and then found her voice. "Your Majesty. May I say what an honor it is to meet you?" She actually bent knee.

He smiled. "You could, but you'd be the first today."

"I fought at Ostagar. What happened there was…" She shook her head. "A great tragedy."

A cloud covered Alistair's eyes briefly. "Ah. Yes, it was. Thankfully the man responsible has paid for that."

Anders tilted his head to one side. "Say… weren't you and Bann Kallian Grey Wardens once?"

"That's the rumour." Alistair blinked. "Wait, weren't you…?"

"That's the rumour," Anders replied.

"Huh. I guess we get around." Alistair turned back to Hawke. "I was hoping we could talk. Would have been better timing before being emasculated by Meredith, but I'm not picky."

"Things are looking up," Hawke said. "It's not often I get called on to meet with foreign leaders."

"I know you came here from Lothering. A Fereldan refugee that did well for himself, against all odds. I have to admit, I was hoping your influence in Kirkwall might be of use. Things…" Alistair sighed. "Haven't been going well with Orlais. Without a viscount here, however, there's only the knight-commander to deal with."

"You were having an argument about mages?" That part had intrigued him. He'd known the Ferelden Circle was considered something of a refuge, but not that the King himself was apparently involved on some level.

"Yes, well, apparently I don't feel the same way about mages as the Chantry does." Alistair shrugged. "So we're in disagreement. That means they get nasty. They're like that."

"Sounds like the Circle is better off in Ferelden."

Alistair sighed. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?" He shrugged. "Sadly, I don't control the Circle. I can only deal with mages outside the Circle…" His eyes went briefly to the staff on Hawke's back. "Of which there aren't many."

"A lot of your people fled to Kirkwall, you know."

"I know. I wish I could have helped them. The Blight devastated the kingdom, and afterwards…" He shook his head. "Well, it hasn't exactly been peaceful. They're welcome back, of course. As are you. But after so many years away, would you still consider it home?"

"Ferelden will always be my home."

"I hope to see you back there someday. We could use someone like you, Champion."

He didn't like the sound of that. "Is there to be a war, then?"

"I hope not."

Teagan shook his head. "You're more optimistic than I am."

"Empress Celene is doing her best." Alistair shrugged. "Orlais isn't the most stable place right now."

"What's happening in Orlais?"

"Oh, the usual. Attempted assassinations, uprisings, fancy parties with stinky cheeses." Alistair gestured dismissively. "Apparently, some Orlesians think it would be grand to get their lost province back."

"They make it sound as if were gonna lay down and let them," said Kallian.

"Indeed, we won't let them swoop down on us, will we?" said Teagan.

"That's right," Alistair nodded. "Swooping is bad."

"Do you really think there's something I can do?" Hawke asked.

"Sadly, it may be too late," said Alistair. "Meredith got wind of my arrival sooner than I'd hoped. What you can do is protect Kirkwall. It will take someone like you to keep it from falling apart."

"Just me standing between the city and disaster, huh?"

"I've been there." Alistair shrugged sympathetically. "Trust me, it isn't pretty." He glanced at Teagan and Kallian. "Well, I suppose I should get back to the old ball and chain."

Kallian shook her head. "Is it any wonder she hasn't killed yet?"

Teagan laughed. "You know the queen hates it when you call her that."

"No, she doesn't! Just because killed a high dragon, she doesn't scare me."

"You keep telling yourself that, Your Majesty."

"If you're not careful, you're the next thing she's gonna kill," said Kallain.

* * *

He found Merrill at the estate, near the fireplace. "I've got you something."

He then placed a ring in her hand and her eyes widened.

"Is this from me?" Merrill asked as she examined the ring. "It's beautiful! Do you know what it is?"

"I only know that it was made by the Dalish."

"It's sylvanwood." She slipped it onto her finger and admired it. "Rare as diamonds. You only find it in very old, very wild places. The carvings tell the story of the Betrayal. The Dread Wolf tricking all the gods away from the world."

"Start at the beginning. What happened to the gods?"

"Long ago, there were two clans of gods. The Creators looked after the People. The Forgotten Ones preyed upon us. And one god who was neither. Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. He was kin to the Creators, and in the old days, often helped them in their endless war against the Forgotten Ones."

"Why were they fighting?"

"No one knows. We barely even remember all their names, let alone who struck the first blow, who was wrong… Fen'Harel was clever. He could walk among both clans of gods without fear, and both believed he was one of them. He went to each side, and told them the other had forged a terrible weapon, a blade that would end the war. He told the Creators it was forged in the heavens, and the Forgotten Ones, that it was hidden in the abyss." She lowered her voice dramatically. "And when the gods went seeking it, he sealed them both in their realms forever. Now he alone is left in the world."

"I imagine the Dalish don't depict the doom with their gods just for decoration," Hawke assumed.

"Not… exactly no," said Merrill uncertainly. "This was made for a Keeper, you see. Guarding a clan from the Dread Wolf…" She turned the ring around on her finger. "Is a Keeper's place. It's a… very sweet memento, thank you."

* * *

Aveline was laughing hard enough she had to use her desk to hold herself up. "And then he says…" Isabela gestured. "He says, 'I swear I had two when I came in here.' You know those stains never came out."

"You are horrible." Aveline shook her head. "Every inch."

"You love it, big girl. And you owe me for the bottle." She brushed her hand over his shoulder as she left the office. "Hawke."

"She's not so bad." Aveline smiled fondly. "Except when she is." She came around and sat on the edge of her desk. "Did you know I've been dead for seven years? I got word last week. They only just sorted the casualties of Ostagar. The king has offered to reinstate the commission of any surviving officers who will return to Ferelden."

"And?" Hawke questioned.

"And what?"

"Does this appeal matter? I thought you were sworn to Cailan."

"King Alistair has apparently become something of a sensation. A champion of hope. Regardless of who has the throne, I served Ferelden. The country survives, even if Cailan didn't."

"You brought it up. What's your decision?"

"It's been a strange time here in Kirkwall. Did Carver ever tell you about that last night at Ostagar? How it happened? I don't mean the betrayal—everyone knows the signal went up and the flanking charge never came. But that moment when the tower lit and then…" For a moment, her eyes were far away. "The fight just kept going. It was the oddest feeling. Hope answered with…" She sighed. "Nothing. I don't like the thought of going out with a whimper, Hawke. Not again."

He shook his head, she had been leading him on. "You enjoy stringing me along too much."

"I can't keep a straight face for anything," she smiled. "But I wasn't always so sure. Thank you for everything. I have so much because of you." She hugged him. "I'm here for you, Hawke. And for myself."

* * *

He got a letter from Orsino asking him to meet in the Gallows. He also wrote that Meredith had restricted the mages, keeping them contained in their cells and forbade him from travelling further from the courtyard.

He met up with Orsino, who looks greatly relieved in seeing him. "Thank you for coming, Champion. Few will associate with me now that I am focus of Meredith's ire," he said and then he looked at him grimly. "Which relieves me in a difficult position. She is not entirely wrong. I know some of my people are using dangerous means to oppose, but I cannot seek the templars' aid without making every mage a target."

"What are they doing?" Hawke asked, but he had a feeling he knew the answer.

"All I know is numerous mages have left the Circle at night, sometimes for days at a time. I'd rather not follow our knight-commander by leaping to the worst possible conclusion, but the idea blood magic had crossed my mind."

"You need some assistance against traitors in your ranks?" Hawke asked.

"Traitors? Perhaps. Rebels? Certainly," Orsino nodded. "I don't know if they seek Congress with demons, or merely walk in the moonlight. All I know is a meeting is happening tonight in Hightown. I would go myself, but should I leave the tower without permission, Meredith would call it proof of my involvement."

"I'll see what they're up to," Hawke agreed. "There is no need involving the templars."

"Thank you," said Orsino graciously. "Your support has been a life-line for me. Just learn the nature of this meeting. You needn't interrupt unless you find proof of something sinister. I pray not, or Meredith will have what she needs to justify the Right of Annulment."

* * *

He let Aveline know the plan. She offered a few of her guards, and he shook his head. "The way Meredith is jumping at shadows, I don't want her to get the notion the guards are involved in any way."

She nodded. "You should bring Sebastian. As impartial witnesses that the Grand Cleric will listen to go…"

"I was planning on it."

* * *

Not just mages. Mages and templars. He was surprised to see the two factions working together.

"Someone's coming! The Champion!"

A templar drew his sword. "We know you're spying for Orsino!"

One of the mages gestured at the others. "Run. We'll handle this." He lifted his staff and started calling up a spell.

So much for the peaceful solution. He found a piece of parchment on one of the templars.

"A secret meeting at the docks," Sebastian said. "The plot thickens. Shall we?"

* * *

A mage was talking to a familiar looking templar. "I told you he was after us."

The templar turned, and Hawke saw recognition dawn on the young man's face. "No…" He shook his head. "Not him. I can't do this." He ran off.

The mage drew his staff. "To arms."

He really hadn't come here to fight or kill, but if they were going to insist…

Keran approached after the last of the attackers were dead. He held up both hands in a peaceful gesture. "I told them not to do it, I swear. If I knew you were the one they were talking about, I'd have warned you. I don't hold with kidnapping. Not after what I went through."

Hawke gave him a frustrated look. "Didn't I save your life?"

"You did." Keran shook his head. "Believe me, I still dream about those blood mages. I don't know where I'd be without you. I'd never have let them kidnap anyone I knew was one of yours."

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"They said someone was spying, we needed leverage, someone they cared about. As a hostage. We just got word they pulled some Dalish woman from a mansion in Hightown."

The chill in his blood was replaced with white-hot fury. "You bastards are going to pay if you hurt her."

"We weren't going to hurt her." Keran took a step backwards. "They… they should have just talked to you. I know you're reasonable person. You have to see how dangerous Meredith is Thrask says Meredith will cause open war with the mages if she stays in charge. We have to take down."

"Is this whole thing to oust the knight-commander?" Hawke asked in disbelief.

"She needs to go. Don't you see?" Keran gestured. "We need a real viscount, and templars who protect mages, not massacre them. Just look what Thrask accomplished. Mages and templars, working together. Isn't that what we all want?"

"Is Thrask the one running this conspiracy?" Thrask knew him. Thrask could have come to him.

Keran nodded. "He's the one who brought us together. For six years, he's been working—on mage, one templar at a time. Teaching us we don't have to hate each other. He showed us Meredith isn't the only way."

Maybe it was a different Thrask. "Do you mean the templar Thrask?"

"You've worked with him." Keran spread his hands. "He's a good man. You should help us, not fight us. All we want is someone sane in Meredith's place. What are you going to do to Thrask? To me?"

"This isn't going to end well. If I were you, I'd say out of range," Hawke advised.

Relief filled Keran's face. "Thank you. I'm really sorry you were the one. Our main base is on the Wounded Coast, an old ruin. They should all be there. Your friend too. I promise you, Meredith is the only one we're trying to harm. I-I'll go back to Macha's. Please don't tell Meredith about me. It would kill Macha if I got in trouble."

He was willing for diplomacy. To be reasonable. To settle the situation peacefully and with no one hurt. But if they had to start with the blood magic he would have no choice but to kill them.

* * *

They had finished the last of the demons when a vaguely familiar man came up the path. "Well, here you are. You've been sticking your nose in every problem in Kirkwall since you stumbled off the boat."

"Who are you, again?"

"Samson." The man shrugged. "I'm the one who fouled up your lad Feynriel's escape, some years ago. Further back, I was a templar. But that was before your time."

Hawke looked down at the corpses at his feet. "Are the mages here using blood magic?"

"It always comes down to that, don't it?" Samson actually looked disappointed. "They claim innocence, demand equality, but back them into a corner and they got options we don't. Haven't found a mage yet who won't take it."

"Are you part of the plot against Meredith?" Hawke frowned.

"You could say so. That bitch threw me out of the templars for carrying letters from a mageling to his sweetheart. She's got a sword so far up her ass, she can cut you with her tongue."

"Meredith does seem to have a serious case of the crazies, yes."

"But is she wrong? I'd hoped with Meredith gone, I could take up the shield again." Samson tapped his sword hilt, then shook his head. "But maybe she was right—give them a hint of freedom, mages go bad."

This was stupid. Surely they had to understand what resorting to blood magic meant for their cause. "Your friends are right. Without Meredith, Kirkwall can be at peace again."

"It is never that simple," said Fenris.

Hawke admit there won't be total peace and there would be that old mage that would resort to blood magic, but it didn't help that Meredith saw blood mage is in every corner. As far as he more than have appeared ever since she crackdown on the Circle and he knew sooner or later something was bound to break.

"I'd cheer to see her shipped to Val Royeaux. But I don't have the stomach to turn against all that's right and natural to do it," said Samson.

Hawke watched as Samson walked off he had a feeling he was gonna go out of the templars, Hawke knew he had to act fast or else Thrask and his followers would be killed.

* * *

Merrill was lying on the ground. A mage he recognised as Alain was standing nearby, his position suggesting he was acting as a guard. He fought down the urge to just hit everyone with lightning. Thrask walked towards them. "I suppose it was too much to hope that you wouldn't have come here. Though I cannot understand why you side with Meredith now. You showed me we can stand up to her. When I realised you had risked your life lying to protect those mages…" Thrask held up pleading hands. "Please, Champion. I have nothing but respect for you. It's Meredith we must see gone."

His lover was breathing, and didn't appear to be injured. Hawke turned his gaze to Thrask. "Your cause is just. But I take issue with your methods."

Thrask gave him a relieved smile. "I should have known you recognise the threat Meredith poses. I am sorry for any distress we caused you or your friends. Let the hostage go."

For a moment, a brief moment, it looked as though it was going to end peacefully. And then she stepped forward. "No. The elf dies. Then the Champion."

"Stand down, Grace." Thrask turned towards her, a look of surprise on his face.

Anders blinked. "Grace? We saved you. What are you doing?"

"We will not kill an innocent to achieve our ends." Thrask held up his hands in a placating gesture. "It gains us nothing to become Meredith."

"Meredith." Grace spat. "What do I care for Meredith? I'm here for the Champion."

No good deed goes unpunished. Hawke narrowed his eyes. "I've been wondering when you'd come back to bite me in the ass."

"Decimus was right. There is no way for a mage to live by the Chantry's laws." The look she gave him was pure hatred. "You killed the best man I ever met. But I learned all he had to teach." She gestured at the mage guarding Merrill. "Alain, kill the hostage."

"I-I don't know, Grace…" Alain started shaking his head.

"I thought you turned your back on blood magic when you saw what happened to Decimus…" Hawke drew his staff.

"This isn't right, Grace. The Champion tried to help us."

Grace stepped forward and slapped Alain across the face. "Don't defy me, boy. Without me, you'd be nothing. If you're too squeamish, I'll do it myself."

"No." Thrask moved to block her. "No one has to die here."

She laughed. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong."

"Restrain yourself." Thrask's voice sounded desperate.

"Forget the hostage." Grace cut open her hand, and the blood started to swirl as she changed. "Kill the Champion."

Thrask tried, he really did. Grace cut the templar down without a moment's hesitation. Hawke hit her with a blast of ice that barely slowed her. Around him, his companions moved into the fray. He put up a barrier and a wall of fire to protect Merrill, and then directed his attacks towards the abomination. Several templars and a few mages threw down their weapons and backed away.

* * *

Aveline collected the weapons from the ones that had surrendered. Alain gave Hawke an apologetic look. "I knew she was still alive, but I didn't know Thrask was working with her. When I saw her today, it brought everything back, everything I saw Decimus do. I…" He hesitated. "I'm sorry. Grace used blood magic to hold her. There's no other way to wake her up."

He then pulled out a knife and slit his hand. Merrill stirred, then stood as the spell holding her vanished. She looked around in dazed confusion. Her eyes met Hawke's he could see fear in her eyes and coughed. "Where… am I? I thought for certain I would end up in the Gallows."

Hawke stepped forward, fingers glowing lightly with a healing spell. He kept his voice light and teasing, though he knew the other man could see the worry in his eyes. "I promise, I'll never let anything like this happen again."

Merrill hugged herself. "I understand now why city mages fear them. When I thought they were going to lock me up, the one thing I knew I could not live without was… you."

Hawke turned at the sound of footsteps. Samson was with a group of templars led by Cullen.

"The meeting here, Sir Cullen—Oh!" Samson stopped and looked around. "I guess you didn't get on so well with these mages as you thought?"

"Champion." Cullen gave him a confused look. "Samson never said you were involved in this. I trust you were here to stop the traitors, not join them?"

"The Champion's a good man, ser." Alain stepped forward. "He tried to solve things peacefully."

Cullen grunted, and then glanced at a templar behind him. "Put the mage to questioning."

Hawke held up a hand. This disaster had gone on long enough. "The boy stood up to his elders when they would have killed an innocent hostage."

"Hmph." Anger showed on Cullen's face as he looked at the bodies in templar armour. "You mean he was one of them, save for a convenient last-minute change of heart." He took a breath. "I'll encourage Meredith to take it easy on him."

Alain gave Hawke a grateful look. "Thank you, Champion."

"Everyone else here is under arrest." Cullen gestured. "Take them to the Gallows." He watched for a moment before turning back to Hawke. "Is there any recommendation you would have me bring to Meredith, Champion?"

"She should consider reinstating Samson. When it came down to it, he showed where his heart is."

"True." Cullen turned towards the man on his left. "Samson, you have done us a great service. Do you wish to take up the shield once more?"

Samson's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "M-more than anything, Knight-Captain sir."

Cullen nodded. "Then I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, sir. Thank you."

* * *

He returned to Orsino and told him of everything that had happened.

"Your mage-templar group was conspiring to overthrow Meredith," said Hawke.

"I have a sudden deep regret I interfered…" said Orsino shaking his head in irony. "You know, I was half-convinced Meredith had engineered the whole thing, to trick me into to incriminating myself."

Hawke crossed his arms. "Thrask admitted to leading the group."

"Perhaps I've exaggerated the depths of her madness," said Orsino leaning on his windowsill. "But if she's not there yet, she will be soon. The only question is, once it clear she cannot lead, with there be anyone left to oppose her?" He then handed him a pair of circle robes. "Please accept this as my thanks. It will be of more value to you right now than my friendship."

* * *

He found Fenris staring contemplatively out a window. He took the blade he'd found earlier and offered it. "Take a look at this."

Fenris's eyes widened. "A blade of mercy? I remember these. You see them in the Imperium: replicas of the sword Archon Hessarian used to kill Andraste. This one looks finely crafted."

"I thought it might be worth something." Hawke leaned on the window next to Fenris.

"It is. Here, let me show you." He took the blade from Hawke and moved his hand down the blade, activating an enchantment that wreathed the blade in a warm glow. "These are gifts of honour, given to those who have performed a service for the Imperium." He tested the balance. "Danarius coveted them, as I recall."

It looked right in the man's hands. "I'd like you to have it."

"For me?" Fenris held it up, and looked down the length of the blade. "Yes…" He smiled. "I think I'd like that. I'll think of the irony as I wield it. Thank you, Hawke."

* * *

Hawke blinked when Bodahn showed Cullen into the study. Cullen gave him a slight bow. "The knight-commander agreed to show mercy to those found conspiring with Sir Thrask."

"What is the knight-commander doing about the conspirators?" He gestured for Cullen to take a seat, and offered the man a glass.

Cullen took it, and let Hawke fill it with the wine. "The mages have been confined to their quarters and sedated. The templars have been suspended without pay. That is as lenient as we dare be."

"Thrask was a good man." Hawke looked up at Cullen. "If it hadn't been for Grace, it could have ended peacefully. He tried, Cullen."

"Thank you, for that." Cullen swirled his glass, then took a drink. "When I first arrived here, I was…" He sighed. "Thrask took me under his wing, showed me around, helped me get my feet back under me. Meredith is convinced he was under the influence of blood magic, but…"

"Grace was a blood mage, and he opposed her. Tried to get her to stand down. She killed him for it."

"He should have come to us," Cullen said softly.

"Yes." Hawke leaned back in his chair. "Alain… is he?"

"I told Meredith that Alain didn't just surrender, that he actively opposed Grace and the others. He's being watched, but he's the only one not confined to quarters. He seems a good lad. Why he'd be involved…" Cullen shook his head.

"What about Orsino, he was the one that got me to investigate this little conspiracy, though he is regretting it now," said Hawke.

"I don't doubt that, but the knight-commander doesn't seem to acknowledge it at all, she is convinced that he was the one that orchestrated it, but lacks the proof."

"I swear she's looking for an excuse to start a war," Hawke groaned.

Cullen raised an eyebrow. "And your mage friends are not?"

"Fair enough, but I fear this is only gonna get worse before it gets better," said Hawke grimly.

Cullen nodded. "I fear you may be right and what side will you take? I know you sympathise with the mages, though that's not to be unexpected. On the other hand you do look down on blood magic and other dark spells."

Hawke shrugged. "I suppose it will mostly depend on what starts the war than anything else."

"Let us hope it doesn't get that far."

Hawke lifted his glass. "To Thrask."

Cullen touched his glass to Hawke's. "To Thrask."

* * *

"Why was Meredith so obsessed with the notion that Orsino was behind everything?" Cassandra leaned over the desk.

"That is a very good question." Leliana shook her head. "The Seekers were getting reports, yes?"

"All very conflicting," Cassandra said. "And with all the confirmed reports of blood mages…" She sighed. "We should have been there."


	43. The Last Straw

"Aveline, you'll look after Hawke, won't you?"

"Of course I will." Aveline raised an eyebrow at Merrill. "What kind of a question is that?"

"And sometimes Isabela gets into awful trouble. You'll watch out for her, too?"

"Merrill…" Aveline gave her a concerned look. "What brought this on?"

"Anything could happen. You'll protect them, though. It's what you do."

"There's nothing to worry about, Merrill."

Hawke sat quietly, listening to his friends talk. He wished he could believe Aveline. He was about to join the conversation when Bodahn entered. "Excuse me, Messere, but this just arrived for you."

He took the letter from Bodahn, and read it quickly. He shook his head. "Orsino is asking me to come to the Gallows." He set the parchment on the table. "As soon as possible."

* * *

Hawke had barely set foot in the Gallows when a mage came running up to him. "Champion? Thank the Maker you've come!"

"What's happened?"

"First Enchanter Orsino got into a terrible argument with the knight-commander." He gestured. "He stormed off to bring the matter before the grand cleric, but Meredith gave chase. I fear there will be blood!"

"Then take me to them, before that happens."

He nodded, and led him back towards the boat.

* * *

"I will have the tower searched." Meredith stood only a few feet from the first enchanter. Her face was flushed with anger. "Top to bottom."

"You cannot do that." Orsino gestured furiously. "You have no right."

"I have every right. You are harbouring blood mages, and I intend to root them out before they infect this city."

"Blood magic? Where do you not see blood magic? My people cannot sneeze without you accusing them of corruption."

"Do not trifle with me, mage. My patience is at an end."

"A wonder that I never saw it begin."

He strode forward, stopping when he was almost between them. "Why are you to fighting again?"

"This does not involve you, Champion," said Meredith turning on him.

"I called him here," said Orsino crossing his arms. "I think the people deserve to know just what you've done."

"What I have done is protect the people of this city, time and again." She started to step towards Orsino, and Hawke gently laid a hand on her shoulder. She took a deep breath. "What I have done is protect you mages from your curse and your own stupidity." She shook her head. "And I will not stop doing it. I will not lower our guard, I dare not."

He turned to Orsino, keeping himself between the other man and Meredith. "Is there any truth to what she's saying?"

Orsino shook his head. "These are only her latest accusations, nothing more." He spread his hands. "And what if she does not find what she's looking for? How much further will she go to root out something that isn't there?"

"The Champion knows better than anyone how deep the Circle's corruption goes. I must find the source." Meredith folded her arms and glared.

Hawke shook his head. "You can't keep pressing the mages like this."

Meredith sighed. "What other option do we have?" She met his eyes. "Tell me, Champion, that you have not seen with your own eyes what they can do, heard the lies of mages that seek power."

He gestured at his own staff. "Some of us want exactly what you want, Meredith. We're not the enemy." For a moment, it seemed to be working, and he saw her relax just slightly.

Orsino gestured. "You would cast us all as villains, but it is not so."

She nodded. "I know, and it breaks my heart to do it, but we must be vigilant." She made a sharp gesture with one hand. "If you cannot tell me another way, do not brand me a tyrant!"

"This is getting us nowhere. Grand Cleric Elthina will put a stop to this."

Meredith shoved past Hawke and caught Orsino's sleeve. "You will not bring her Grace into this!"

Hawke moved to intervene again. He was about to suggest everyone else go home and leave the three of them to go to the Grand Cleric when the sharp sound of a staff striking stone rang through the air. "The grand cleric cannot help you!" Anders walked into the area.

Meredith turned to stare at him. "Explain yourself, mage."

Anders gestured. "I will not stand by and watch you treat all mages like criminals…" He swung his gaze to Orsino. "…While those who would lead us bow to their templar jailers."

Orsino glared at him. "How dare you speak to—"

Anders cut him off with another rap of his staff against the stone. "The Circle has failed us, Orsino! Even you should be able to see that!" Anders eyes began to glow briefly. "The time has come to act. There can be no half-measures."

"Anders," Hawke stared at the man. "What have you done?"

Anders turned away. "There can be no turning back."

Beneath them, the ground began to shake. There was a horrible sound. Hawke and the others whirled around to see the Chantry start to collapse. Light burst out in all directions as the stone toppled and crashed. Within a few heartbeats, nothing was left but rubble.

"Maker have mercy!" Meredith said.

Ander's voice was soft. "There can be no peace."

Sebastian then fell to his knees. "Elthina! No! Maker, no! She was Your most faithful, Your most beloved…" He looked to the ground with tears in his eyes. "Why didn't she listen to me?" He then got up and raise a hand towards the ruined Chantry. "Blessed by the souls of the faithful that they ascend to Your right hand…"

While Sebastian continued with his prayer Orsino turned on Anders. "Why? Why would you do such a thing?"

"I removed the chance of compromise, because there is no compromise."

"The grand cleric has been slain by magic." Meredith's voice was cold. "The chantry destroyed." She turned to the templars. "As knight-commander of Kirkwall, I hereby invoke the Right of Annulment. Every mage in the Circle is to be executed—immediately."

"The Circle didn't even do this!" Orsino was shaking his head. "Champion, you can't let her. Help us stop this madness!"

"And I call on you to keep order! After what just occurred, you cannot deny what must be done."

He looked from one to the other. Behind him, Sebastian's voice was hot and furious. "Why are we debating the Right of Annulment when the monster who did this is right here?" Sebastian gestured at Anders. "I swear to you, I will kill him!"

Anders looked at Hawke. "It can't be stopped now. You have to choose."

He felt cold. It took him a few moments to find his voice. "Was that…" His eyes narrowed. "Why you needed me to distract the grand cleric?"

Anders nodded. "If you knew what I was doing, you would have felt honour-bound to stop me. I couldn't take that chance. The Circle is an injustice, in many places beyond Kirkwall. The world needs to see."

"Elthina is not the Circle! She was a good woman, and you murdered her!" Sebastian glared.

"You fool!" Orsino shook his head. "You've doomed us all!"

"We were already doomed. A quick death now or a slow one later." Anders met Orsino's eyes. "I'd rather die fighting."

"You're a murderer." Hawke glared as he spat in his face. "The grand cleric, the mages… their blood is on your hands."

"I know."

"It doesn't matter. Even if I wished to, I could not stay my hand. The people will demand blood." Meredith's voice sounded almost… pleased.

Hawke met her eyes. And saw nothing human beyond them. He turned to look at Orsino. "I won't let them slaughter all over you."

"What of Anders?" Sebastian asked.

"Hawke, if you do this, I don't know if I can follow." Aveline's voice was bleak.

"The mages could become a magisters, if they could," said Fenris crossing his arms. "Do not let them."

"You sure about this?" Varric asked. "Even you might not win this fight."

"I know we can do this. I believe in you, Hawke." Merrill's voice wasn't quite as confident as her words.

"Shit. What have you gotten yourself into this time, Isabela?" Isabela moaned.

Meredith took a step towards him and glared at him. "Think carefully, Champion. Stand with them and you share their fate."

He was a mage. He was always destined to share their fate. "I'm not helping you, Meredith."

"Thank the Maker!" Orsino said.

"It is a mistake." Fenris stepped to his side. "But I won't abandon you."

Aveline nodded. "I see what you are trying to do, and my place… is with you."

"You are a fool, Champion." Meredith stared. She gestured at the templars with her. "Kill them all. I will rouse the rest of the Order!" She headed away.

"Go!" Orsino yelled to the mages with him. "Get to the Gallows before it's too late."

* * *

Moira and two other templars stood aside, not drawing their weapons. The rest… died there. "So it's come to this." There was grief in Orsino's voice. "I don't know if we can win this war, Champion, but… thank you." He glanced at where Anders was sitting on a crate. "I will leave you're…" He shook his head. "Friend for you to deal with. I must return to the Gallows. Meet me there as soon as you can."

Hawke nodded. He turned first to Moira. "There will be desperate people tonight. I won't cast on any templar that doesn't draw their blade upon me or allies." He gestured to her. "The veil is going to be torn, and that means demons and abominations." He glanced at Aveline before turning back to Moira. "Gather who you can, and aid the guard. Kirkwall is going to need you."

"Yes, Champion." She saluted, and then gestured to her fellows.

He watched her go, and then walked towards Anders. The mage didn't look at him. "There's nothing you can say that I haven't already said to myself. Vengeance… took me over. I couldn't stop him. Justice once told me that demons are just spirits perverted by their desires. I'd made my friend the demon. And he did this."

"Do not hide behind your spirit!" Sebastian growled. "It was your hand that did this."

"Kill me now before there's nothing of me left."

Hawke had to agree with Sebastien, it was he and his desires that turned Justice into a demon. Anders looked pretty sane when he gathered the ingredients to destroy the Chantry. Not to mention he had the blood of many innocents on his hands, mages, templars, the people of Kirkwall and everyone who was in the Chantry.

"You have to pay for what you've done," Hawke glared.

"I know," said Anders. "The sooner I die, the sooner my name lives on to inspire generations!"

He can be serious, inspire? All he would become would be a warning to everyone the dangers of mages, a simple act of fear magic. He would be remembered as a zealot, who actions killed hundreds possibly thousands.

Hawke then drew his dagger and stabbed Anders in the back. He went completely still and then toppled over and landed on the ground.

"It will never be enough, but it's a start," said Sebastian.

"We'd all best get to the Gallows, and quick." Varric drew Bianca. "It's going to be quite a show."

* * *

They hadn't gone far when a demon appeared. Before any of them could react, a blade ran the demon through. Hawke blinked. "Carver?"

"Your family has convenient timing," said Isabela.

"I've been looking everywhere for you." Carver smiled. "I thought you were dead."

"Here to cheer on the templars, are you?" He regretted the words as soon as he said them.

Carver only nodded in understanding. "You're the only family I have left. I have to stand by you. Just say the word and you'll have my blade."

"I thought the Order was supposed to be neutral."

"I'm a Warden because of you. I blamed you for a long time, but…" Carver touched the hilt of his blade. "You saved more than my life. I am so much more than I was. This is what I was meant to be, and I won't thank you by doing nothing while you start a war."

He hadn't started this battle. But he was damn well going to finish it. "Your blade would be welcome."

"The Hawke brothers together again, huh? Just like old times."

* * *

He kept his word to Moira. Unless the templars attacked first, he let them be. If he found them attacking mages, he gave them fair warning. Some backed off. If he found them being attacked by demons or abominations, he rendered aid. Some attacked him anyway. Blood ran through the streets.

The trip across to the Gallows was silent. He saw Carver and Isabela snuggling up to each other. If he thought his friends would listen, he'd tell them to get out. He glanced up at Hightown could see the smoke from here, he hoped that Bodahn, Sandal and Orana were safe.

* * *

There was fighting already in the courtyard of the Gallows. Orsino was trying to get his people to safety, but both mages and templars were already dying.

"First Enchant!" Hawke yelled.

Orsino gave Hawke a relieved look. "Champion! You've survived, thank the Maker! We must—"

Meredith's arrival interrupted whatever Orsino was going to say. "And here you are."

Orsino stepped forward. "Let us speak, Meredith! Before this battle destroys the city you claim to protect!"

"I will entertain a surrender, nothing more." She gestured. "Speak, if you have something to say."

"Revoke the Right of Annulment, Meredith, before this goes too far. Imprison us, if you must. Search the tower. I will even help you." He held up his hands. "But do not kill us all for an act we did not commit."

"The grand cleric is dead, killed by a mage. The people will demand retribution, and I will give it to them." She shook her head. "Your offer is commendable, Orsino, but it comes too late."

Hawke looked behind her, to where Cullen stood. The Knight-Captain looked startled by Meredith's refusal to accept Orsino's offer. In truth he was surprised as well, the request sounds completely reasonable and it would have prevented more deaths.

"We can still prevent this, before you both tear Kirkwall apart," said Hawke.

"You heard her. She's wanted this all along." Orsino's face was bleak.

"I'm disappointed in you, Champion." Meredith glared at him. "So be it. You will share the Circle's fate."

"So what is it to be, Meredith?" Orsino sounded resigned. "Do we fight here?"

She gestured dismissively. "Go, prepare your people. The rest of the Order is already crossing the harbor."

"This isn't over." Orsino gestured to the mages, and they followed him into the tower.

* * *

Hawke paced the courtyard. Their position was sound. The templars would have to come through a chokepoint to reach them.

"Nervous, Hawke?" Varric asked.

"I know we have to do this, but I don't want to lose people."

Varric nodded. "But what a way to go! A heroic sacrifice for the good of Kirkwall? There are worse endings, you know." He shrugged. "You know me, Hawke. I'm not one for long goodbyes. I'm not sure we should be doing this. Helping dangerous people run amok. But I'm with you."

"Whatever I'm going into, it's good to have you along," Hawke smiled. He gazed out across the water. Lanterns bobbed on the ships approaching the Gallows. After everything, he was right back where he started. In the Gallows, with no hope.

"It's been an honour, Hawke."

* * *

"You don't have to be here if don't want to be?"

Isabela shook her head at him. "And if I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be." She laid her hand on his arm. "Your life would have been easier if you had just cut me out of it. But you stood by me. You defied the Qunari and fought their Arishok for me, even after I betrayed you."

"If you'd gone with them, I wouldn't have been able to yell at you." He winked at her.

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you wanted to yell at me so badly then." She stuck her tongue out at him. "I know I don't exactly inspire confidence, but I swear I'm going to come through for you this time. When you look for me, I'll be fighting at your side."

Carver laughed. "Brother." He folded his arms. "You always seem to find a way to make my life difficult. I should be hunting Archdemons but…" He glanced from Isabela to Hawke. "It feels right to be at your side again."

"This is where you should be. The brothers Hawke."

"That won't always be the case. You know that." Carver shrugged. "I've seen a lot of things. The world out there, it needs help. But I can start here." He put an arm around Isabela's waist. "Who would have thought, huh? Two nobodies from Lothering." He sighed. "I wish… I wish mother could have seen us like this. I don't know what she would think about the rest, but…"

Hawke shook his head. "She always knew it would take something like this to bring us together."

"I suppose she did." Carver straightened. "I'm proud to call you brother. That's gone unsaid too long. 'In war, victory,' Champion. And whatever else may come."

* * *

"Captain?"

Aveline laughed. "Not for much longer if this goes bad." She sighed. "What a mess. You really put loyalty to the test, you know? Donnic has kept the guard protecting civilians. Meredith will have no support from them. With luck…" She shrugged. "Well, let's just say we need some luck."

He laid a hand on her shoulder. "I never wanted to mess up your life like this."

"I think it's something that just sort of happens to friends of yours." She hugged him. "Hawke?" She waited for him to nod. "It's worth it. Now let's bust some heads like the old days."

* * *

He glanced at the man in the dark coat. For a moment, he considered turning his back and walking away. Then he walked towards him.

"Here I am, about to defend these mages in hopeless battle." Fenris shook his head. "You lead me to strange places, Hawke."

"Sometimes you have to do the right thing," said Hawke.

"I'll take your word on that," said Fenris. Hawke knew it must have been difficult for him, considering how he felt about mages. He then looked at him. "Then let me say one more thing, in case it's the last. You're a good friend. The only one I've ever had. It will be an honour to fight at your side. Now the battle awaits us."

He then bowed. " _Na via lerno victoria_. 'Only the living no victory.' Fight well."

* * *

He found Sebastian looking at the mages, he looked terribly conflicted and Hawke couldn't blame him after what they just witnessed.

"It's hard to look at these apostates and not see Anders," he said when he noticed Hawke standing next to him. "Andraste says we're all children of the Maker and deserve the freedom to walk by His side or throw ourselves to the Void. Still, I can't imagine she would support this chaos."

"Andraste wouldn't want her Chantry to be a prison and torture-chamber. He must reclaim her mercy."

Sebastian nodded. "You're right. I should need you to remind me of such things. We must show that the Chantry cannot condone tyranny among its templars. We'll worry about the mages after. To victory, my friend, by any means necessary."

* * *

Merrill was fidgeting, turning the ring around and around on her finger. "I feel like I'm forgetting something. Or there's more to do. Or…" She sighed. "Does all this feel like a dream to you, too?"

"I can't believe it's come to this."

"You'll get us through this. You always do." She then looked down at her hands and then looked up at Hawke. "My love…"

Hawke placed a hand on her cheek. "I love you. Whatever happens remember that."

"No, there's something you should know," said Merrill as she grasped his hand. "I'm pregnant."

Hawke's eyes widened, he was completely speechless. He then did the only thing he could and pull Merrill into a kiss.

* * *

"Are you prepared, Champion? I believe the battle is almost upon us." The First Enchanter looked tired, and old.

"You don't believe there's a chance of winning this fight?"

"With you on our side?" Orsino turned to face him. "Perhaps." He shook his head. "But even if we win, what then? More templars would come, with even larger armies. We are apostates now. Our only hope lies in the Circles elsewhere in Thedas. They could rise up with us against this injustice. I assure you, however, we will find sympathy nowhere else."

It was good to realise just how deep they were in. "We will defend you as best we can."

"Very well. You will need to give orders to your companions, and I will do the same for my people."

* * *

"I am at your service, Hawke," said Sebastian. "Where do you want me?"

"Sebastian, I knew you somewhere with a good vantage point. Cover as well we move in."

"May the Maker favour us now."

"Merrill, attack from a distance. Disrupt their lines. Stay out of the fight as much as you can. Keep them off balance."

"I will."

"Aveline, charge in whenever you see an opening. Give the mages some breathing room, and let them do the work."

"Very well."

"Isabela, I want you to fight from stealth. Keep them confused."

She laughed. "Sounds like fun."

"Varric, take a vantage point. Focus on their archers."

"I'll stick by Daisy."

"Carver, Fenris, you two stay with me. I'm going to make a nice big target of myself and it would be good to have some backup."

"I think we can handle that, brother."

Fenris nodded. "I am yours."

"Were cornered. The templars know it. You know it. But this is bigger than their hate… their fear." He gestured. "They've come to take your lives, and we are saying, no. We don't want this, but sometimes… sometimes you have to stand."

He heard Orsino behind him. "Champion. It is beginning."

* * *

Outside in the Plaza it was an utter war zone, mages and templars were facing one another. Mages casted powerful spells to throw the templars off balance, but the templars were trained to this and managed to overwhelm the mages.

They then broke into the courtyard. Hawke threw a wall of fire over the chokepoint. He saw Merrill call up a tempest and put it over the wall of fire. Varric and Sebastian kept on firing arrows and bolts at the archers and leaders.

A few templars made it through, and mages died for it. He saw Emile de Launcet, of all people, throw up a barrier to protect some of his comrades. A moment later, Isabela was there at the buffoon's back, kicking one approaching templar in the face before burying one of her knives in the throat of another.

Some templars saw Hawke and surged towards him. The first one to come within reach of Carver's blade was promptly cut in half. On the other side of him, Fenris and the blade of mercy began to glow, and he saw the oncoming templars hesitate at the sight.

Across the yard, Aveline fought. He recognized the mage that stood back to back with her as Alain. The young man twirled his staff, keeping the templars from being able to encircle the guard-captain.

The first and second waves of templars came, broke, and fell. Hawke waited, but if the third was coming, Meredith was rethinking her options. He glanced down at the bodies, and saw the faces of people he'd known. People he'd fought alongside. He turned away.

* * *

"Look at it all." The First Enchanter knelt by the body of a dead mage. "Why don't they just drown us as infants? Why wait. Why give us the illusion of hope?" He stood. "I refuse to keep running. I won't wait for her to kill me."

Hawke glanced at him. "This is not helping First Enchanter."

"I'm tired of helping as well. He shook his head. "The irony is that until this very moment, I have never used blood magic."

"Orsino, don't." Hawke turned towards him.

"Quentin's research was too evil, too dangerous, so I put it aside. But I see now there is no other way."

That name. His mind went back to the letters he'd found in that… thing's lair. Signed with an 'O'. "You were working with that murderer?" He saw the heads of Carver come up as he heard the conversation. The expressions on his face was murderous. He imagined his own was similar.

"I knew about him." Orsino sighed. "I kept his existence secret because I didn't want to give Meredith more ammunition against us." Orsino looked down at the bodies. "I see now I needn't have bothered." Before Hawke could stop him he drew his knife and slashed his palm open as more templars entered. "Meredith expects blood magic? Then I will give it to her. Maker help us all." Orsino began to change."

Hawke watched in horror as the corpses of the mages around them rose up into the air and began to merge with the first enchanter. The end result was nothing more than a monstrosity, it was even worse than an abomination. Hawke and describe it, but it looked like an ogre with human hands dangling from its head.

Hawke raised his staff and was surprised to find the templars fighting alongside him to bring down the monster. The beast that used to be Orsino kept on swinging its fists at them knocking the templars aside and every time they cut a piece of it off it started to move and attack them.

Eventually Hawke ran up to it and jumped and wrapped his arm around one of its extendable arms. He then drew his dagger and plunged it into the monster's face and kept repeating the process. He then grabbed its tongue and pulled with all his might and ripped the beast's head off.

The head called around on its extendable arms, but before it could do anything. Hawke stamped on it and crushed it beneath his heel. He looked at the others. The half dozen templars that had survived nodded, and stepped back. Here, at least, the fight was over.

"Hawke, we must leave," said Merrill.

Hawke nodded, and headed out to meet their fate.

* * *

The tower was in disarray, but by the time they reached the courtyard, it was free of demons, abominations, and attacking templars.

"And here we are, Champion, at long last." Meredith stared at him.

The time for illusions was gone. "You'll pay for what you've done here."

"I will be rewarded for what I've done here, in this world and the next!" It sounds as though she really believed those words. "I have done nothing but my duty. What happens to you now is your own doing. You were never part of this Circle, and I tolerated that, but in defending them you've chosen to share their fate."

"It's over, Meredith." Hawke gestured at the Circle. "What mages were willing to give in to demons have, and died for it. It's done. No one else needs to die today."

She glared. "I am beginning to wonder just how large your part in all this actually was. An apostate come into our city, gathering power and influence? A sudden hero of the people?" She gestured. "How can I trust that the mighty Champion of Kirkwall is not a worse threat to this city than the Circle?"

"If you want to see a threat to this city, look in the mirror." He knew damn well there was no way she could let him live, not after this. He wasn't a threat to the city. He was a threat to her.

"Hmph. Just the sort of misdirection I would expect from you." She shrugged. "The people of Kirkwall will mourn your loss, but I will tell them you died battling the mages. A righteous cause."

"Knight-Commander." Cullen stepped out from the other templars. "I thought we intended to arrest the Champion."

"You will do as I command, Cullen." She turned her icy eyes on the Knight-Captain.

"No." Cullen moved to stand between her and Hawke. "I defended you when Thrask started whispering you were mad. But this is too far."

"I will not allow insubordination! We must stay true to our path!" Her voice was no longer calm or controlled, and Hawke could see the templars starting to shift and fidget. She saw it too. She drew her blade, aiming the point at Cullen and forcing the man to take a step back. The blade glowed red. A familiar red.

"Andraste's dimpled buttcheeks!" Varric summed up the entire situation eloquently.

"You recognise it, do you not? Pure lyrium, taken from the Deep Roads. The dwarf charged a great deal for his prize."

That idol. She had been the one that bought it from Bartrand and had been infecting her for over three years. It must've amplified her paranoia and fear the worst part of it was that she didn't even know she was losing her mind.

"The idol poisoned Bartrand's mind in the end," said Hawke.

"He was weak, whereas I am not! All of you," She turned to the templars and gestured. "I want him dead!"

"Enough!" Cullen shook his head and gestured, and the templars stayed where they were. "This is not what the Order stands for. Knight-Commander, step down. I relieve you of your command!"

The look she gave Cullen was chilling. "My own knight-captain falls prey to the influence of blood magic." She whirled on the templars. "You all have! You're all weak, allowing the mages to control your minds, to turn you against me!" She was all but frothing at the mouth. "But I don't need any of you! I will protect this city myself!"

Cullen stepped in front of Hawke and drew his sword. "You'll have to go through me."

She snarled. "Idiot boy! Just like all the others!"

"She's lost it. Just like Bartrand." Varric reached for Bianca.

Hawke nodded, and threw up a barrier, making sure it enveloped Cullen as well. This was not going to be pretty.

The red glowing blade penetrated the stone of the courtyard as the red glow grew brighter, spreading over Meredith. Her eyes gleamed with it. "Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and wicked and do not falter!" The wave of energy that spread out threw half the templars off their feet. Red glowed in the archways as fire sprang up on old wards.

Meredith practically flew through the air, landing behind some of the wards. "Maker, your servant begs you for the strength to defeat this evil!" she yelled. Hawke was trying to figure out how to bring the wards down when some of the statues started to come to life and move towards them.

Fenris and Carver stood back to back as the statues of slaves surrounded them. Hawke was about to go to their aid when Meredith launched herself back into the fray. She landed a few feet from him, and Cullen only barely got his shield up in time to block the blow she sent at Hawke. Hawke sent a spray of ice at her, aiming to chill her armour and slow her movements. It worked, and Cullen managed to get a hit in before she sent a wave of energy that knocked them both back. They had to roll in opposite directions to escape the fist of a giant bronze statue.

An arrow hit the arm joint of another statue, preventing it from bringing its fist down on Isabela. Hawke glanced in that direction and saw Sebastian up on the roof, using his bow to cover Isabela's movements as the pirate backed up Aveline.

Some of the statues managed to reform themselves into spider-like creatures. He pushed Cullen out of the way just in time as it swung one of its massive fists. It was about to slam its fists on top of them again, but then lightning shot out of nowhere and blasted it. They turned and saw Merrill standing there with staff on hand.

They quickly got up just in time to see Meredith charging at them again he probably would've kill them if a bolt hadn't pierced her shoulder. A few yards away stood Varric with Bianca in hand. However, Meredith's rage was even greater than he expected and he barely had enough time to block a sword with his staff.

Cullen then shouldered her, making her lose her balance. Hawke then created a tempest which knocked Meredith off her feet. All the statues that Meredith had brought to life were now broken into pieces and slowly Hawke, Cullen and his companions began to surround her.

"I will not be defeated!" She held the glowing blade. "Maker! Aid your humble servant!"

She drew her sword closer to her and it would seem as if she began to channel even more power into it. Then the sword shattered in the shards covered Meredith's body. They heard her screams, which were bloodcurdling, and they watched as her body began to turn red. She collapsed to unease and moments later she became a statue herself. Red light still shimmered from it.

Slowly, the templars began to approach. Hawke watched them cautiously. Cullen gestured, and one of the templars approached what had once been Meredith. She moved her hand towards the statue, then drew it back before shaking her head at Cullen.

The knight-captain nodded. Then he gestured for the templars to step back, and nodded to Hawke.

Hawke returned the nod, and then gestured at his companions. Together, they walked out of the Gallows.

* * *

" _Word of the slaughter spread quickly. The Champion's name became a rallying cry, a reminder that the mighty templars could be defied. He had defended mages against a brutal injustice, and many lived to tell the tale. The Circles rose up and set the world on fire. More templars arrived at Kirkwall to restore order, but we were already gone. We vanished into the hills, and circumstances eventually forced us all to leave the Champion's side. Well… all of us except for Merrill. You still hear the stories, of course. With each telling they grow, even if at the core remains the truth. A new legend had been born._ "


	44. Epilogue

The Seeker was looking down at his book with an emotionless look on her face.

"So that's it. That's the whole story."

The Seeker looked at him as he processed his story. "Then Meredith provoked the Circle. She was to blame."

"Or that damned idol was. Or Anders. Take your pick."

"Even so, had the Champion not been there…" the Seeker closed the book, and set it aside.

"It might never have even gone that far."

"I see."

"So how is hearing all this going to help?" Varric narrowed his eyes at her curiously. "You've already lost all the Circles. In fact, haven't the templars rebelled as well? I thought you decided to abandon the Chantry to hunt the mages."

She sighed. "Not all of us desire war, Varric. Please, if you know where the Champion is, you must tell me." She spread her hands. "He is a hero, a man that the mages would listen to, someone who was there at the beginning. The Champion could stop this madness before it's too late. He may be the only one who can."

Varric blinked. "Is that what this is all about?" He shook his head. "In that case, I wish I could help you."

She looked down at the book. "Just tell me one thing, then: is the Champion dead?"

"Oh, I doubt that."

"Then you are free to go, Varric." The Seeker then began to walk out of the room. "May the Maker watch over you during the dark times ahead of us."

Varric just watched as she exited the room. "Seem to you, Seeker. Same to you."

* * *

Cassandra exited the estate and found several armed soldiers waiting outside.

Leliana walked up to her. "So did you…?"

"Gone. Just like the Warden." Cassandra sighed.

"That is no coincidence." Leliana folded her arms.

"So do we proceed with the original plan, or keep looking?"

"It is in the Maker's hands now. We put our faith in Him." Leliana sighed. "The Divine may have questions of her own."

Cassandra nodded. "I will bring the dwarf. It is time we go to the temple."

"I will follow up on the leads he gave us." Leliana sighed. "All we can do now is hope."

Cassandra handed her the book and she looked down at it. She wished that Theron was with her, but that was impossible as much as she wanted it to be. She felt that this was only the beginning and that change was about to come to the world, the question was whether they would live through it.


End file.
